


The Seventeen Lifetimes of Steve the Captain

by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)



Series: A Thousand and One Manhattan Lifetimes [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Face-Fucking, Fix-It of Sorts, Immortal Steve Rogers, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Sex, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:47:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 77,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26923096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiasobi_writes/pseuds/hollyandvice
Summary: Tony looks back up at him. The smile on his face is more shy than any Steve has ever seen before. "Well, I can certainly think of one reason."Steve goes hot all over at the implication. It's not that he's uninterested — quite the opposite in fact. But this is so much more than he'd ever thought he would have, so different, so sudden. There's no way this is what he was meant to do or have or be, but if Tony'soffering— "Yeah?"Tony's smile is radiant. "Yeah."When countless lifetimes and thwarted attempts to save Tony haven't been enough, Steve goes back to the beginning and tries again. Fighting through lifetimes once hadn't been enough for him, but this? This might be enough. If he can save Tony this time, it will all have been worth it.He just has to keep his hands to himself this time.
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: A Thousand and One Manhattan Lifetimes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698925
Comments: 141
Kudos: 137





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is the second of at least four fics (probably five) in a very, very, _very_ long epic. Like, it's already over 200k in my many Google Drive files and the end is only vaguely in sight. Just warning you all. While the end of the epic series is intended to be hopeful, the end of this particular fic installment is pretty dark. I've listed the premise and some spoilers _INCLUDING POTENTIAL TRIGGERS_ for the series in the end notes of the first chapter as there are some things that don't show up here that will show up in later installments. Please take the time to check those over if you are concerned, because despite the hopeful ending (which may even be happy at the end of the day? Who knows, my Steve is a fickle bastard) there are plenty of dark twists and turns along the way.
> 
> As a result, if you want to wait to read until the whole piece is done, I absolutely understand. If you're willing to be brave with me and come along for the ride, though, I would be so, so grateful. I need all the encouragement and support I can get (as my lovely cheer readers will attest) and I am thankful for whatever you are willing to provide.
> 
> This piece would not exist without the help of several people. First, my IRL friend A who indulged me by reading through some of the piece in its early stages and encouraged me to continue. My fandom friends Sly, Ali, and V.Mures, all of whom have encouraged me through Discord. My IRL writing friend B who always encourages me to improve my craft. My IRL writing friend M who just wants me to create things and encourages me to do so in whatever form that may take. Thank you to ChocolateCapCookie for a quick, hardcore beta job and helping me get this ship in the air, and to ishipallthings for a thorough beta job with an eye to continuity, courtesy of MTH. Thank you to all of you.
> 
> And thank you to you, dear reader, for joining me on this journey yet again.
> 
> The series title is a play on _A Thousand and One Arabian Nights_ and the story title is a play on the story from _Arabian Nights_ entitled _The Seven Voyages of Sinbad the Sailor_.

He fights. He fights whoever is in front of him. Whether that's Cull Obsidian or Corvus Glaive or some nameless, faceless, footsoldier. Whether that's Thanos with the gauntlet or without, in 2018 or 2023. It doesn't matter. Whoever fate puts in his path, he fights them. He fights them, kills them, destroys every last creature that has ever done a damn thing to hurt Tony, and he lets their blood seep into his skin. Under his fingernails. The soles of his shoes. It doesn't matter. None of it matters. Tony, his Tony, the child he'd protected since the day he was born, is dead. And that Tony is never coming back.

So he fights.

Each time, as someone snaps the gauntlet (Thanos or Bruce or Tony Tony Tony), Steve feels the power resonate through his body. It's a frequency he knows, one that he understands down to his core, and it's one that he may never be free of. One he may live with until the multiverse sees fit to snuff his life out. He's used the Stones before, felt them scatter his atoms and reassemble them in the past or the future or whatever twisted part of reality they see fit to place him in. This is no different. And as the power resonates through his body, he lets it pull him into unconsciousness, hoping against hope that this time might be the last.

It never is.

It never is because he always wakes up to the same outcome. The same desolation. The same hollow, empty place where Tony should be. He wakes and he takes a breath to mourn and then he tries again. And again. And again. He must be able to stop this. He has the damn Stones. He has to be able to do something. He _has to_.

He can't.

When that thought finally sinks in, he knows what he has to do. He has to do what he failed to do the last three times. He has to find the point, the sacred point in the point in the multiverse that will save Tony. He has to find it. That's all. That's all he has to do.

He reaches through the familiar comfort of fighting, through the stress and tension of battle. He reaches out, and when he finds what he's looking for he takes it in hand and holds on tight.

* * *

Steve lets the familiarity of the snap carry him through to the other side of the multiverse. He feels the way the Stones challenge him, the way they try to pull him to another point in time, to move him this way or that. But he holds strong, following his inner compass to the place he needs to be. The place his whole being needs to find. The moment he needs to fix.

He goes back further than he had the last time he'd tried this. Goes back to a time shortly before the moment in the compound when he'd looked over at Tony and seen the man's convictions mirrored in his eyes. Conviction, yes, but in a different direction.

It's an easy thing to make his way through FRIDAY's protocols and into the compound. He knows she'll be sending up an alert to Tony that he's coming, knows that there's going to be hell to pay for waltzing into the compound without letting Tony know he's here, but that doesn't mean he isn't going to do it.

As he'd expected, there are seven pairs of eyes trained on him when he walks into the conference room. Ross has just laid down his ultimatum, and though Steve had made sure not to be seen when the General left, that doesn't seem to have made a damn bit of difference in the way the rest of the team is looking at him. There's wariness and uncertainty in the way they hold themselves, though Nat has that ethereal sort of smile on her face that always seems to make her look like she knows more than she does. Steve lets his eyes linger on her features for a moment before he turns to Tony.

But it isn't Tony that speaks. It's Sam.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

Steve can't help it. He laughs. "Good to see you too, Sam."

Sam gets to his feet, eyes narrowed as he looks Steve over. "That's what you're leading with? Seriously?"

Steve shrugs. "Been a while since I've seen you, honestly."

Sam squints at him. "What does that mean?"

"It means it's been awhile since I've seen you."

Sam throws his hands up in the air and turns to look at Cap. "You got any idea what's going on?"

"None," Cap says, eyes slightly wider than usual, though not so much that anyone but Steve himself is likely to notice it. Steve lets his eyes ghost over Cap's form, heart in his throat as he thinks about what this man is about to do to Tony, and looks instead at the man he's come to save.

"Tony."

He can see Tony's mind going a mile a minute to try to understand what's going on. Then they narrow. "Clone, shapeshifter, or just a damn good disguise?"

"None of the above. You know I'd never willingly let someone make a clone of me, the last shapeshifter I met didn't have any skin in this particular game, and you know FRIDAY's protocols better than anyone — she'd never let anyone but the genuine article in."

"Okay, so then what are you?"

Steve grins. "Time traveler."

Tony's eyes go wide. Steve doesn't let himself look at how the rest of the team reacts, too busy focusing on the light and warmth and hope in Tony's eyes. Then the brilliance shuts off completely. "You're here to side with him, aren't you?"

Steve's eyes flick over to Cap unbidden, but he looks back over at Tony immediately. "No."

Tony raises an eyebrow and gestures for Steve to elaborate.

"I'm here to try to get you both to do what we didn't do last time. Listen to each other."

Tony tilts his head to the side. "I'm a great listener."

"You are. When you don't think you're completely in the right. But there's got to be some room for a middle ground, Tony. You know that better than anyone."

Tony wrinkles his nose. "Not sure I agree with you on that last point, but I'll take your word for it, Mr. Time Traveler."

Steve laughs before he can think better of it. He tries not to wince when he feels the tension from his counterpart kick up a notch. Closing his eyes and steeling himself for the tirade to come, Steve turns toward Cap.

"Well?" he says when the man stays silent for a breath longer than Steve would have anticipated. "Go on then."

Cap narrows his eyes. "Do you really expect me to believe that this is what you're here for? That you time traveled back to this point just to, what? Rewrite some legislation?"

Steve raises an eyebrow. "It's more than just the paperwork. You know me well enough to know that. It's everything that comes after this. There are forces at work that we didn't know about at the time that I know about now. I'm here to make sure they don't completely destroy your team the way they destroyed mine."

Cap sits up a little straighter at that, now seeming a good deal more interested in the conversation. "Come again?"

"There are secrets you're keeping, Cap. Secrets everyone in this room is keeping. If you're going to avoid the absolute clusterfuck that's coming, then you need to start listening to each other in ways we haven't been. Trusting each other in ways you haven't before. You sit around and tell each other you're a team, but you never act like it. There's too much at stake here not to at least give trust a go."

Tony's staring at Steve like he's never seen him before, and Sam looks bowled over too. Cap, though. Cap's got that look on his face that says he thinks he knows what's going on and that he might be a bit more dangerous than Steve can afford for him to be right now. Steve meets his gaze head on, only just refraining from raising an eyebrow.

“You got a problem with that, Cap?”

Cap’s eyes narrow. “With trust? No. Not in the slightest. I trust everyone on this team implicitly. You, on the other hand? I don’t know who or what you are, but you can be damn sure I’m not about to trust you without a damn good reason.”

Steve stifles a sigh. “We all have our secrets, Cap. I know you do. I do too. Sometimes trust really is the best we can ask of each other.”

“Not good enough.”

Steve shrugs. “Then you’re going to make the same mistakes I did. Lose the same things I did. Gather the same people. You’re going to end up just like me, not knowing what you have until you’ve lost it.”

Cap’s face goes through a complicated series of expressions. Steve can’t be completely sure what he’s thinking, but he’s got a damn good idea. So when Cap looks up at him, steely-eyed and mutinous, Steve doesn’t even bother trying to reason with him. He turns to Tony instead.

“I get where you’re coming from, Tony. I know why you’re doing this. And I know your intentions are good. But he’s not going to listen to logic. Not the way you do. If you want him to understand — if you want to find some sort of middle ground that you can both live with — you’re going to have to appeal to a little bit more than that.”

Tony blinks, as though trying to parse what Steve is saying. “There’s more to this than blind emotion.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Is there?”

Tony opens his mouth, but stops short at whatever he sees on Steve’s face. He looks away. “You know everything don’t you?”

“Just enough.”

Tony purses his lips. Then he turns to look at Cap. “You think you’re up for listening to what I have to say? Really listening?”

Cap’s eyes go wide. “Yeah?”

Tony shrugs. “Sure. Why not?”

Cap looks up at Steve who just shrugs at him. Cap’s eyes go hard and bright. “You and me, Tony. I don’t need this idiot wandering around trying to change my opinion.”

Steve only just manages to not roll his eyes. Cap and Tony slip out of the main room and into Tony’s office. Steve refrains from staring after them, managing to keep his eyes trained on Tony’s back just long enough to see him into the study before he’s turning back to the rest of the assembled Avengers.

He nods at Sam, his throat tight with the need to apologize, to ask his forgiveness for leaving another version of him behind. Sam just raises an eyebrow at him, seeming to vacillate between wanting to trust someone with Steve’s face and wanting to lean into Cap’s inherent distrust. Steve stays as strong as he can, not wanting to give in to the need to ask Sam’s forgiveness. He’s been on this path long enough that he knows there’s no reason to ask for something this man can’t give him.

He looks over at Rhodes, something in his stomach twisting with the sudden realization that there’s a version of Rhodes that doesn’t have Tony at his side. That Steve stole that from him when he left Tony to die on the side of the road with his parents. When he abandoned his duties as Tony’s protector. There’s so much he needs to say to Rhodes here too, so much he wants the man to understand, but there’s nothing this version of Rhodes can say that will assuage Steve’s guilt. He isn’t the one that Steve stole from. He’s not the one whose forgiveness he needs to ask.

He turns away from Rhodes as well, eyes ghosting over Vision and Wanda. Wanda he remembers, knows, loves in that distant way he loves everyone that isn’t Tony at this point, and he respects Vision‘s humanity, his inherent need to do the right thing. They’re important in this moment, yes, but there’s something to be said for the fact that he never knew either of them. Not really.

His heart clenches when he rests his gaze on Nat. He remembers losing her almost as vividly as he remembers losing Tony the first time. Remembers coming back to that landing pad and watching Clint fall to his knees in a desperate sort of loss. Here, now, watching Nat quirk a grin in his direction sets his stomach flipping in a way that unsettles him.

He nods at her. “Nat.”

She tilts her head to the side, her eyes sharp and discerning. “That bad, huh?”

Steve isn’t entirely sure what she’s asking — he’s decades removed from the easy friendship Cap has with this person — so he just shrugs. The sharpness in her eyes takes on a new quality, boring into Steve as though she can see straight through to his soul.

"Steve. What aren't you telling us?"

Steve tilts his head to the side, contemplating. "Things are going to get bad, Nat. Real bad if the two of them can't see eye to eye. We might be able to mitigate some of it if we can get the two of them on the same side, but barring that…" He shakes his head. "I don't know, Nat."

She gets to her feet, walking over to where she can stand right in front of him. "Then we'll figure it out. We always do, Steve."

Steve holds his tongue, nodding along as though in agreement. It isn't enough to convince her, but it seems to be enough to appease her. She nods in turn and steps away.

Sam's scrutinizing him with every ounce of stubborn caution that he's always had about everything that isn't Steve himself. It's strange to have it turned on him in a moment like this. Steve meets his eyes head on, though, waiting for the judgment that he knows Sam will lay down.

"A time traveler," Sam says, eyes still locked onto Steve's. "You really expect me to believe that."

Steve gives him an apologetic smile. "I know it seems far-fetched, but it's the truth."

"And I bet you're going to tell me Stark's the one that figured it out."

"With some help," Steve says, lips quirked in an answering smile. "But I'm not using his tech. Not exclusively, anyway."

Sam frowns. "What does that mean?"

Steve smiles back, feeling the regret and isolation linger, bitter on the back of his tongue. "It's a big universe, Sam. There's a lot more to it than you know right now."

Sam purses his lips, looking unimpressed. "So you're siding with Stark on this whole… save the earth from aliens… thing."

"I'm not on anyone's side, Sam," Steve lies. "I just want to know that my people are safe and cared for."

"And you think these Accords are the way to do that?"

Steve swallows. "I think," he says, as levelly as he can, "that if your Steve and Tony can work together better than my Tony and I did, it will save a lot of people a lot of pain."

Sam's eyes go wide at that. Nat's spine tenses, and Vision tilts his head to the side, something thoughtful in his expression. In the end, it's not one of them that speaks.

It's Tony. "It's more complicated than that, Steve, and you know it."

Steve flinches at the certainty in Tony's voice. "Tony—"

"You can stand there in your convictions all you want, Steve. But we both know you and I have never seen eye to eye on anything outside of the battlefield."

Steve can feel the muscle twitching in his jaw that always gives him away.

"You disagree." There's a question in Tony's voice, one that tempts Steve, makes him want to give away every last one of his secrets if it means that Tony will trust him again. Anything, _anything_ to get Tony to believe.

But he won't. Tony just wants him to rise to the bait. Steve's long since learned what it is that Tony's different tones of voice mean. This isn't a Tony that wants to hear Steve's thoughts; this is a Tony burnt and hurting.

And Steve thinks he knows why.

"Where's my doppelgӓnger, Tony?"

Tony's face pinches. "I think we both already know the answer to that question."

Steve glares. "He should know better. You both should. This is too important for you two to let your petty differences split you apart. You're better than that."

"Maybe in your timeline," Tony snaps, "but in the here and now Cap's never seen me as much more than a means to an end. Alright? He doesn't understand."

"Then make him understand, Tony. You have to make him see what you do. Make him see what the world holds for the both of you. What the future holds."

"What, like your Tony made you see?"

Steve opens his mouth to snap back, but Tony's words take all the wind out of his sails. His shoulders sag, and he looks away, unable to meet Tony's eyes. "That's not fair."

"What isn't fair is you showing up here out of the blue demanding that we conform to your idea of what the world should be without giving anyone the time to understand what you're asking. You can't waltz your way through history changing whatever you want because things didn't go the way you wanted."

"This isn't about me!" The vehemence in Steve's tone takes even him by surprise. He blinks past the shock, though, and focuses instead on the surprise in Tony's eyes. It's enough to anchor him to the moment, to the heart and soul of what's going to happen here. "This isn't about me. This is about the whole planet, Tony. About the universe. The goddamn multiverse. There's so much here, so much you don't understand, so much you _can't_ understand yet, and I need— I need you to trust that I'm here to do whatever I can to make this right. I need that Tony, yes, but more than that… the world needs that. I can't undo what I did in my timeline, but please. Let me try to do it here."

Tony stares at him, a tiny wrinkle on his forehead, as though he's processing what Steve has said. Steve can feel Nat and Sam and Rhodes and Vision staring at him too, all with varying degrees of understanding. The scrutiny twists something in Steve's gut, but he doesn't back down. If dozens of lifetimes haven't been enough to get him to back down, watching Tony die more times than Steve can count, then he's damn sure that whatever this team thinks they can throw at him won't be enough either.

"You really mean that." Tony's voice is low and incredulous. "You really mean that you're going to do whatever you need to do."

"It's too important, Tony. We're going to lose so much — _too_ much — and there's no way that I can do anything but try to stop it."

"How many times?"

Steve's breath catches in his chest. "What?"

"How many times have you tried to stop it?"

Steve looks away. Tony's gaze is too gentle, too knowing, and Steve doesn't have the words to reply. Not here. Not now. Not to Tony.

"Steve."

"Don't ask me that, Tony. Please, just… don't ask me that."

"And these Accords. You think they're the key."

Steve shrugs, tilting his head up just enough that he can see through the glass walls to the corridor outside. "I don't know."

"But this is the point you came back to. This is what you came to try to fix."

Steve laughs. The sound is more bitter than he'd intended. "I've tried more than just this, Tony. Before this and after and everything in between. I've tried so much, and none of it has ever been enough." He turns and looks at Tony, a moment of weakness in a time when he should be striving for strength. "None of it."

Tony's eyes go wide, understanding flitting over his features. He licks his lips, eyes still wide and stunned, and Steve can't break his gaze. Tony parts his lips, wonder on his face as he stares up at Steve. "Oh."

The single syllable is enough to break the spell, and Steve's turning away, heart in his throat and pain in his gut as he tries to think about what might have been enough. What he could have said— what he _should_ have said— but it's no use worrying about it now. The only thing that matters at this point is what he can say to convince Tony and Cap that they need to fix the rift between them. That they need to find a way to move forward, move on, do whatever it takes to make the universe theirs again. To keep everyone safe.

Steve looks back at Tony. Tony blinks, schooling his features into something resembling calm. Steve doesn't ask.

"So this, then. This thing, with me and Steve. You think that's the difference?"

Steve shrugs. "I think there's no harm in trying to fix it and seeing what happens."

Tony furrows his brow, looking thoughtful and curious about Steve's words. Then he nods once, resolute. "Alright, then." He turns to Sam, who startles at being so recognized. "Go see if you can find Cap, would you?"

Sam frowns at Tony, a retort apparent on his lips, but Steve adds his two cents before Sam can say anything. "Please, Sam."

Sam glances over his shoulder at Steve and huffs, shaking his head. "You're a damn menace, you know that?"

Steve tries not to let the words ache, tries not to lean into their familiarity. "Yeah," he says, grinning. "Yeah, I know."

Sam hums, quirking an eyebrow in Steve's direction. "Well, damn. I might be a bit more inclined to do what you say if you're going to take my suggestions with such good grace."

Steve can't help but laugh at that. It's a release of tension that he hadn't known he'd been holding, a calming of the worry that has been burrowed in his chest since he started this particular jaunt. He has no way of knowing if this is going to be enough to save Tony, if this lifetime is going to be the one, but at least he knows that he has Sam on his side, however reluctantly. It's not perfect, but it's something.

* * *

Cap doesn't turn up until shortly before dinner, Sam all but dragging him along by his ear. Steve can see the resistance in the line of his spine, in the way his eyes dart from Sam to Tony to Steve himself and then back to Sam. But Sam stays steady and sure at Cap's shoulder, and Cap makes it all the way to the dinner table without balking.

"Tony," he says. Steve's heart skips a beat at the careful, measured way Cap says Tony's name. "You got a minute?"

Tony looks as surprised as Steve himself feels. "Yeah," he says, already on his feet. "Whatever you need, Cap."

Cap grimaces at that, but Steve knows himself well enough to know that that's remorse coloring his features, not frustration. "Just give me five minutes, and then I swear I'll listen to you this time."

Tony's features shift through a myriad of emotions before settling on something like hope. "Sure thing, Cap. Lead the way."

Steve holds himself back from following, but only just. This isn't a conversation for him to spy on. This is a conversation for Cap and Tony to have themselves.

Steve can allow them that. If nothing else, he can allow them that.

Five minutes become ten, become twenty, an hour, and Steve isn't sure if he's calmer or more worried now than he was when Cap had first come in. The others have all finished eating and are coming and going in that way that makes him pretty sure they're just keeping an eye on him, but he can't really say that he minds. He doesn't want to go up to the guest quarters, doesn't want to wait and see whether Tony or Cap or anyone else will come and let him know what the final verdict is.

Doesn't want to admit that he doesn't really belong here. Not like he did in that last lifetime that mattered when he'd traveled back in 1970 and watched Tony grow almost to manhood.

The memory sets Steve's gut twisting and he's glad that he hasn't touched his now-cold dinner. He closes his eyes and buries his head in his hands, counting his breaths as though that will make the time move any differently. The blood might as well still be red on his hands for the intensity of the memory. He can feel Tony's chest struggling under his hands, hear the rattling of the blood in his lungs. And his eyes. God. In those few moments when the Stone had released him, Steve had seen right down to Tony's soul. Seen him in a way he never had before.

And now that Tony's gone.

At some point, someone comes and rests a hand on his shoulder. Steve's breath catches, and he looks up, not sure who he wants to see. The gratitude that surges over him when he sees Tony looking down at him with something like hope on his face nearly does him in.

"Hey there, Cap."

The shift in name is enough to have Steve sitting up a little straighter. If Tony's calling him Cap, that must mean— "Yeah?"

Tony's face relaxes. "We're not all the way there, but we're listening to each other. We're going to figure things out. I'm not going to tell you it's going to be okay, but I'm pretty damn sure it's going to go better than things did for you."

Steve only just catches Tony's wince as he closes his eyes to sigh in relief. "Good," Steve says. "That's good."

Tony hesitates for just a moment before squeezing his shoulder. "You sure?"

Steve laughs, and it's a brighter laugh than he can remember giving in years. "Tony, I know my timeline was doomed from the start. If I can do anything to keep either of you a little bit safer in any other timeline, that's a win in my book."

Tony's fingers clench on Steve's shoulder, but Steve can hardly find it in himself to care about what that might mean. Tony's okay for the moment, his relationship with Steve's doppelgӓnger is on the mend, and if that isn't a good sign, Steve doesn't know what is.

* * *

Then everything goes to shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!----SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES BELOW----!!!!
> 
> This series includes:  
> \- **Death** in the form of Tony dying a lot. Like, a lot a lot. Like a thousand times a lot (hence the series title). If you'd like to have specifics on any of the deaths, feel free to shoot me a message on [tumblr](https://hollyandvice.tumblr.com/ask) or hit me up on Discord (holly#0515)  
> \- **Murder** in the form of Steve killing a past version of himself while in a grief rage.  
> \- **Underage** in the form of a 17 year-old Tony getting with a vaguely immortal Steve.  
> \- **Age Difference** in the form of Steve going back in time to protect little!Tony after being married to adult!Tony in a previous lifetime. Steve wisely fucks off to the other side of the planet for a few years but he does come back when Tony is nineteen and they do get married. Nothin untoward happens when Tony is underage.  
> \- **Canon-typical off-screen torture**.  
> \- Some sort of **relationship negotiations** between Steve, Tony, and Pepper. As I am currently over 100k words out from writing that particular encounter, I can't tell you what that will look like. I will update here as soon as I know.
> 
> I may be forgetting things. I've hit everything that I know is going to be in this series at this point, but, as I said, I'm not done yet, so there may be things that will pop up that I haven't realized. I will update here if anything changes and be sure to put any relevant info at the top of any chapter or installment that has new warnings. Please take care of you, though, and stay safe!!


	2. Chapter 2

It's not like he expected the explosion at the UN to go any differently. It's that he'd expected his doppelgӓnger to not be a total idiot about it.

Instead he's stuck chasing Sam, Bucky, and another version of himself across the planet in an attempt to keep them safe. He'd thought they might be able to understand this time, thought they might be willing to listen, but instead it's the same shit that happened last time. He can feel Tony and Ross breathing down his neck, but Tony, at least, seems to be willing to listen to what Steve has to say on matters. Like whatever little thing Steve had said back at the compound had been enough to convince Tony that Steve is who he says he is.

"You know this isn't going to be as easy as just pulling Cap outta there," Tony says as they make their way down to the bunker in Siberia. They'd tried to track them to one of the earlier hideouts, tried to stop this all from going to hell, but it hadn't been enough. None of it had. Same shit, different day.

"There's something I've gotta tell you first, Tony. Before we go down there."

He can see Tony frowning out of the corner of his eye. "What, more than what you've already told me?"

"Yeah. There's things your Cap is keeping from you. Things someone is going to try to use against you. To try to destroy what you and Cap are trying to build."

"Whatever that is."

Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head. "This is bigger than the two of you, Tony. Bigger than all of that. I can't even begin to tell you how important this is. You're—" He shakes his head again. "You're too important to lose, Tony. I can't let you go down there and fight what's coming, and I can't stop you either."

Tony stays silent for long enough that Steve forces himself to look up at him. His eyes are blank; tired and lost in a way that Steve hasn't seen since the first time he watched Tony stumble off a damn spaceship, thin and pale and dying. Steve swallows around the guilt that fills his throat and reaches out. He's not sure if he's going to take Tony's hand or just reach out for him, but Tony jerks away before he can make up his mind. "Don't," Tony says, shaking his head. "Don't."

Steve pulls his hand away. He's not sure what it is that Tony's protesting, but he's not about to try to find out either. Tony plants his forehead in his palm, and Steve can see his shoulders shaking. It intensifies the desire to reach out for him, but Tony has told him not to, and Steve isn't about to fight him on that. He'll wait, just like he always has, and when Tony's ready, he'll be there. Just like he's always been.

When Tony looks up at him, his eyes are dark and tired. "Just tell me how bad it's going to get, Steve. I don't need to know all the gory details, just… tell me how bad."

"Tony—"

Tony shakes his head and holds up a hand. "I get it. You're here looking out for our future. You wouldn't have come to this moment in time if there wasn't something you needed to fix. You've made it damn clear that what needs fixing is my friendship with Cap. So whatever it is that's going to happen down there, just tell me how bad it's going to get. That's all I need to know."

"Bad. It's gonna get bad, Tony. I can't say if it'll go the way things went the first time around, but when I lived this the first time, I almost tried to kill you."

Tony raises an eyebrow. "Almost? How do you almost try to kill someone?"

Steve grimaces. "By pulling your punches at the last second when you realize this is the last thing in the damn world you want to do."

Tony's eyes go wide. Steve meets them head-on, but doesn't say anything. There's nothing to say. He's made his point already. Tony blinks once, and Steve has to clench his jaw to keep from looking away. Tony's breath hitches at whatever he sees in Steve's eyes. "Oh."

That single syllable is enough to have Steve looking away. Tony knows — of course Tony knows — but there's nothing to be done about that now. It's Steve's own fault for letting his emotions rule him.

Tony's fingers, when they come to rest on his shoulder, are tentative; light and fleeting in a way that has Steve's breath catching in his chest. Steve closes his eyes, unwilling to look up and see the pity in Tony's eyes. Tony's fingers drift across his shoulder and up Steve's throat, leaving a line of goosebumps in their wake. Steve tries not to let it get to him, tries to keep the tension and ache and want at bay, but it's no good. Tony's fingers barely need to press against his chin to have Steve tilting his head up to look at Tony.

Tony's eyes are shining, bright and brilliant in a way that Steve never could have anticipated. There's a want there, a kind of deep need that Steve's never seen in Tony's eyes before. It makes Steve's breath catch in his throat again, something like hope swelling in his chest when Tony leans down toward him to—

Steve places a hand to the center of Tony's chest, stilling him. "You don't know me."

"I know enough."

"You're being rash."

"I'm always rash."

"I'm not him."

Steve watches Tony's throat work at that. All the breath leaves Tony's chest in a rush, and he draws back. "What," he says, voice shaky even as he puts on his best defenses, "are you allergic to your own happiness?"

Steve wants to laugh; the words are so typical of Tony. It's the man stripped down to his bones and flayed alive, the man that Steve would tear the world apart for. He wants to laugh. He doesn't. It would hurt too much. "Something like that."

Tony sighs and settles back into his seat. He stares at Steve, eyes unyielding and unbending. The expression sets Steve's teeth on edge. Steve swallows, trying to find the words he needs to make Tony understand. He can't find them.

The rest of the flight continues in silence, but it isn't up to Steve to break it. He doesn't get to do or say a damn thing about any of this. This is Tony's world, not his, and that's all there is to it.

So when Tony comes face to face with Cap, he's unprepared for what's coming. Steve isn't holding his breath for this to go any better than it has the last several times he's gone through this, but that doesn't mean he isn't going to try.

Tony throws the first punch as he always does when the time comes, and this time Steve steps in to hold Cap back from stopping Tony. Cap turns to him, rage in his features. He pulls his arm back to clock Steve in the face and then they're off, gun against repulsor, shield against fist. The battle is as long and fierce as it always is, and Steve does whatever he has to do to keep Cap away from Tony. He knows Tony won't actually kill Bucky, knows Tony's soul well enough to believe that beyond a shadow of a doubt. Besides, Bucky isn't as helpless as Cap thinks, that much is certain. So he fights his other self and watches the way he can't seem to focus fully on the fight, distracted by Bucky and all that he represents.

Steve's chest goes tight. It's a reminder of how little he always used to think of the people around him, how highly he thought of himself. It's arrogance incarnate, his whole world distilled down to this, to the men behind him. The men for whom he's torn the world asunder. First the Avengers, then the universe, then the multiverse. Anything to keep the people he loved under his meager protection. Anything to make them his, in the only way he ever knew how.

He puts fist to face, knee to stomach, foot to groin, and there's no way he should be winning the fight this decisively. This isn't what this was supposed to be, and there's something here, something under the skin that makes this all so different from what it is. What it was. What it could have been.

It's in a moment of distraction that Cap ducks under his arm and makes his way across to Tony and Bucky, hauling Tony off of Bucky to do whatever it takes to keep Bucky safe. All Steve can think is that it's Cap himself who put Bucky in danger in the first place, by neglecting to tell Tony the truth. The truth conquers all, and if it can be destroyed by the truth, then it deserves to be. All Steve can think is that this is what they've been reduced to, to kicking and screaming and fighting their way through to the end. He’d just wanted to keep Tony safe, just wanted to give him the life he deserved, and now here they are, facing down against the other side of the world he'd once believed in. Steve can barely breathe for the way the pressure of this responsibility is crushing him.

Cap gets to Tony first. Steve scrambles over to them, trying to drag Cap off of Tony, but Bucky gets to him before he can get to Tony. Bucky hauls him away, not so much fighting against him as fighting to keep him incapacitated. Steve is forced to watch as Cap fights Tony with every last ounce of strength in his body. Forced to watch as the helmet comes off, as Cap drives the edge of the shield through the arc reactor that runs the suit. A sob rips its way from Steve's mouth. Bucky drops him, no doubt as shocked by the sound as Steve himself is. Steve falls to his knees, all the fight taken out of him. He closes his eyes as Cap comes over to slip an arm under Bucky's shoulders and lug him away, as Tony does what he always does. He gets the last word in.

"My father made that shield!"

Steve closes his eyes, waiting for the telltale clang of vibranium on the ground.

It doesn't come.

Instead, Cap takes Tony's would-be victory away from him.

"Maybe your father saw something you couldn't."

Steve sees red.

He throws himself to his feet, ready to take down his doppelgӓnger in one go, whatever it takes to prove that he knows Tony's worth. He's flying blind, running on empty, ready to do whatever it takes to take Cap out.

He forgets to watch out for Bucky.

The gun comes around, clocking Steve once across the temple before he can get an arm up to stop it. It's not enough to incapacitate him, but it's enough to slow him down and put some distance between them. Steve swallows, ready to follow after them and make them _understand_ , but Tony stops him.

"Steve. Don't bother. It's not worth it."

Steve grits his teeth, ready to argue, but Tony just makes a pained sound, trying to move even with the damage to the suit. Steve closes his eyes and lets the anger relax to a simmer.

He turns back to Tony, searching his eyes for something he knows he won't find. He reaches out to touch Tony's face. Tony flinches.

Steve pulls back. "What do you need?"

Tony closes his eyes. "Home, Steve. I need to go home."

* * *

It's strange, finding his way back into Tony's life. This Tony seems smaller, more subdued than Steve's used to. He doesn't reach out to Pepper when they get back to the compound, too focused on helping Rhodey acclimate and on trying to figure out where Steve fits in this new world they're in. Steve himself isn't quite sure what to do about all of this. He waits a few weeks to ask about the phone and the letter, and when he does, Tony just raises an eyebrow at him.

"I think your other half made it clear enough what he thinks of me. You really think he'd reach out after that?"

 _I did_ , Steve doesn't say.

Tony seems to hear it anyway. His eyes go wide and his lips part as though on a question. Steve catches a flash of pain in Tony's eyes before he turns away. "Oh."

"Tony—"

"Don't, Steve. Please, just. Just don't."

Steve waits, heart in his throat as he tries to parse what's going through Tony's head. Tony stays there, face turned away for what feels like a decade. Then he turns back to Steve and gives him a weak smile. "Guess that answers that question."

"What question?"

"Of whether I'm as good as your Tony was."

Steve's eyes go wide. "Tony—"

"You turned me down, and he doesn't even want to reach out. It's pretty clear what you both think about me." He lifts one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "Guess I don't need to worry about much else."

Steve leans in close, too fast for Tony to stop, and presses a kiss to the corner of Tony's mouth. Tony gasps against him, turning his head and kissing his lips in return. Steve closes his eyes, letting the want pool in his stomach, the desperate wish that they could have this. That this could be his, even just for this moment.

Then Tony pulls away, eyes half-mast, and Steve knows he's come to the same conclusion as Steve himself. "You were right," Tony whispers. "You're not him."

Steve closes his eyes. "No. No, I'm not."

Tony falls back on his heels, rocking a bit as he looks up at Steve. "Well then. I guess that will have to be enough for both of us."

Steve licks his lips, suddenly more desperate than he'd ever realized he could be. "I guess you're right."

Tony smiles sadly. He reaches up to cup Steve's cheek, running his thumb along Steve's lower lip. "You deserve so much more than I can give you."

Steve closes his eyes. He turns and presses his lips to the center of Tony's palm. "So do you."

Tony sighs. "If you say so."

"I do, Tony. I do."

Tony runs his thumb over Steve's bottom lip again. "Maybe in another lifetime," Tony whispers. "Maybe then."

Steve doesn't let himself hope. There's no way he'll ever be worthy of Tony. But that's okay. As long as he can give Tony what he deserves, the rest of it doesn't matter.

* * *

The years continue like that. Brief touches and stolen glances that never amount to anything else. Tony gets back with Pepper. They get married. Rhodey learns to walk again. Steve learns to live in this world that's little more than an imitation of his own. Everything hurts to look at, but at least this time Steve can stand at Tony's shoulder as he prepares for the worst.

He'd expected resistance from Tony when he'd explained what was coming, but Tony had just gritted his teeth and worked toward preventing all the things Steve had warned him about. He'd tracked Cap as best he could, and Steve hadn't let that hurt. Knowing that some version of him had been so angry that he was willing to leave Tony behind; Tony never deserved that. Never.

Steve stands at Tony's shoulder, and when Bruce comes crashing back into the stratosphere, he and Tony are ready. They put up their best stand against Ebony Maw and Cull Obsidian, and Steve tries and tries to keep Tony's feet on the ground. He's watched Tony's relationship with Peter grow and change, and all Steve can think when he fails and watches Tony fly off into space is that at least he knows Tony's coming back.

Hours later he realizes just how wrong he was.

* * *

Steve thinks he must be imagining things. He's in the midst of preparations for the Battle of Wakanda when he feels something pierce his belly, deep and gouging and oh, god, is this—

He staggers back from the table the war council is gathered around, back from the bearded version of himself that tries to steady him. Steve remembers the scar across Tony's abdomen, remembers the way Bruce had stared at it, wide-eyed and stunned as he'd whispered what an impossibility it was that Tony had survived.

Maybe this time around he isn't going to.

They lie in wait for the coming battle, and Steve pretends to be surprised when it doesn't come. When Strange calls him and says that they kept the Time Stone safe. That he and Nebula and Peter and the rest are all on their way back to Earth.

"And Tony?"

Strange is tellingly silent.

"Strange."

"A necessary loss, Captain. I'm certain that you understand."

Steve throws the phone hard enough to shatter it against the wall of Shuri's lab. They have the Time Stone, they've destroyed the Mind Stone; even if someone else comes along to try to enact Thanos' plan, there's no way they can. Steve is no longer needed here. Better, then, to try again. To try to find a world where he can protect Tony the way he deserves to be protected. They came so close to winning here, so close to saving the day and all coming home, but they didn't quite pull it off. Now, then, it seems to be time to move on to his next attempt.

This Tony wasn't the one he was meant to save. He just has to keep looking. If he came close this time, then maybe he was right about the point in time to return to. Maybe he just needs to find a better way to protect Tony from Cap. Maybe… maybe he just has to shift a few small things, inconsequential things, and that will be enough. Maybe this time he'll be able to save Tony the way he deserves to be saved.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve doesn't go back quite as far this time. He goes back to just before Tony's about to take off to head up to Germany to try to find his way to Cap and the rest of his team. Steve goes and waits in the airplane, and when Tony finds his way there, he stops short.

"Steve?"

"Not your Steve," Steve says, moving aside so that Tony can make his way into the plane. "But I have information you need."

Tony purses his lips, looking disbelieving. Then he shakes his head. "Well, God knows I've had weirder days." He steps up into the plane and settles down across from Steve. The rest of the team files in, looking at Steve skeptically. Tony waves them all off, which seems to be enough of a dissuasion that they don't worry about why Captain America is sitting in their plane across from Tony when they're supposed to be going to kick his ass. They all troop to the back of the plane and converse in low murmurs while Tony waits for takeoff, his eyes level as he looks straight at Steve.

"So, Cap," Tony says once they're in the air. "What's your story?"

Steve blinks at him.

"Clone, shapeshifter, or just a really good disguise?"

Steve smiles through the worry and fear that would choke him if he let it. "You know I'd never willingly let someone make a clone of me, the last shapeshifter I met didn't have any skin in this particular game, and—" Steve cuts himself off. "Well, it would have to be a hell of a disguise to get through the security I can imagine FRIDAY ran before I was even remotely in range."

Tony tilts his head to the side, looking contemplative. "Okay then, so what are you?"

"A time traveler."

Tony shifts, immediately on alert. "You're here to side with him, aren't you?"

"No," Steve assures him. "I'm from the future. I'm not an idiot."

"The future. That's seriously what you're going with." Tony raises an eyebrow.

"Well, parallel timeline, really," Steve corrects, "but the future in that parallel timeline."

"Uh huh." Tony waves two fingers at one of the flight attendants and reaches for the champagne flute she hands him. "Keep pulling my leg."

"I'm not kidding, Tony. I really am. I came here because—"

"Because you're right, I'm wrong, and you need to fix everything, because that's what you do. You fix my fucking mistakes."

The hostility leaves Steve taken aback. After so many months with a Tony that understood where he was coming from, that knew what he was thinking, this Tony leaves him jarred and disoriented. This isn't what he'd thought was going to happen, though he supposes he should have. As deeply embroiled in argument as they'd been then, he'd never felt that way. Though, he supposes he shouldn't be surprised that Tony had interpreted it that way. God knows he hadn't ever done much to dissuade Tony of that notion. "No," he says, his voice softer and more reverent than he ever could have made it intentionally. "I'm here to fix _my_ mistakes."

Tony pauses with the flute pressed against his lips. He stares at Steve briefly before closing his eyes and downing the entire glass in one go. He signals to the same flight attendant, who replaces the glass with another one in the blink of an eye. Steve keeps his eyes on Tony, never wavering in his conviction.

"I'm here to fix my mistakes, Tony," he says, his voice even and level. "That's all."

"And what mistakes are those?"

"Keeping secrets that never should have been kept. That's been the worst offense of all, and I'm not going to ignore the consequences of those actions. I've tried talking around it time and time again. Not this time. This time I'm just going to lay all my cards on the table and see what happens."

"That so?" Tony swirls the champagne in his glass, his eyes never breaking contact with Steve's.

"Yes."

That doesn't seem to be what Tony was expecting. He looks away, his eyes settling on the team in the back of the plane. Peter's eyes are wide as he looks around at the team assembled before him, while Nat trades quips with Rhodes. Steve lets himself glance at them out of the corner of his eye, lets his eyes rest on Nat, reveling in the reality of her existence, her continued life in this iteration of the multiverse. He doesn't let himself linger, though. He turns back to Tony, whose eyes are still on the group behind them. "What kinds of secrets?"

Steve wets his lips, his heart hammering against his chest. "You have to promise me, no matter what I'm about to say, that you'll take it seriously."

"Of course," Tony says with a wave of his hand.

"And that you won't go jumping into anything without listening to what I have to say."

Tony narrows his eyes at that. "What exactly does that mean?"

"It means I've watched you react poorly to this secret before and watched you pay too steep a price for that reaction. I can't let you do that again."

"Let me?" Tony arches an eyebrow. "My dear Captain, no one _lets me_ do anything."

Steve closes his eyes, the truth in those words cutting him to the quick. "I know. I know I can't make you do this. All I can do is ask you not to be rash. To trust me, and let me help you."

Tony purses his lips. "I can't promise anything. If this is as big of a deal as you're making it out to be, I'm not going to promise anything until you put all your cards on the table."

Steve looks out the window, heart thumping in his chest. It's not what he'd wanted to happen, and it hurts more than he'd wanted to admit it would. But this is Tony he's talking about, and nothing Steve's done so far has worked. Maybe it's time to trust Tony to do what he'd said he would. Maybe it's time to trust that Tony is the man that Steve's made him out to be in his mind. Steve turns back to Tony. "It's not what you're expecting."

"I'm not expecting anything," Tony says, spreading his arms magnanimously.

Steve winces. There might be some truth to that, but he knows there's more to what he's about to share than Tony realizes. "It's about your parents."

Tony's face shutters at that. "If this is about Howard—"

"It's about both of them." Steve swallows. "It's about their deaths."

Tony starts to get to his feet. "Fuck you, Rogers, if you think you can just—"

Steve's hand reaches out and latches onto Tony's wrist before he can think better of it. Tony looks down at him, disgusted, but Steve lets the words spill over his lips before Tony can tell him to back off. "It wasn't an accident."

Tony freezes. "What?"

"It wasn't a car accident. Or, at least, that isn't all that it was. It was planned. Someone wanted your father dead."

Tony sinks slowly back down into his seat. "Lots of people wanted Howard dead, but not any that would have had the power to do it and the skill to make it look like an accident." Tony looks like he's barely breathing.

Steve forges ahead, unwilling to stop now that he has Tony's attention. If he can just make Tony understand, maybe that will be enough. "It was Hydra. They used their greatest weapon to take out your father because he was too close to recreating the serum that they used on me. The last thing in the world they wanted was for that to get out when they already had what they thought was the last surviving super soldier in the world."

"And so they, what? Killed my parents?"

Steve nods grimly.

Tony stares at Steve for a long moment before shaking his head in disbelief. "What the hell does that have to do with anything that's happening right now?"

"It has everything to do with what's happening right now because you're about to go up against Hydra's greatest weapon."

Tony opens his mouth to respond, only for his teeth to clack together when the understanding hits. "Barnes."

Steve takes a deep breath and nods. "He wasn't in his right mind, and he didn't have control over what he was doing… but yes. It was Bucky."

Tony makes a wounded sound somewhere deep in his chest. Steve swallows down the guilt at being the bearer of bad news.

"I'm sorry you have to find out this way," Steve says softly. He reaches out to take Tony's hand, but Tony jerks away and gets to his feet, running his hands through his hair.

"So, you're telling me this now. You're claiming to be from the future, and you're telling me this now. So what the hell is your plan, then?" He whirls on Steve. "This is a setup, isn't it?"

Steve blinks. "What?"

"This is a ploy to get under my skin so I'm not on my game when we make it to Rogers and his team."

Steve frowns. "Not at all, Tony. If anything I need you to be more on your game, because there's no way we're going to make it out of this intact if you're not one hundred percent on your game."

"Then why the _fuck_ would you drop a bombshell like that on me right now?"

"Because if I don't, you're going to find out at an even worse time."

Tony's laugh is borderline hysterical, and Steve can see Rhodes making his way toward them while Nat tries to distract Peter. "Worse than this? What the fuck could be worse than this?"

All at once, Steve sees this through Tony's eyes. Run ragged and worked to the bone, exhausted in that way that he so rarely lets anyone see. The reality of what all of this has done to Tony — what it had surely done to his Tony so long ago — has Steve's heart breaking in his chest. "Please, Tony," he whispers. "Just sit down."

Tony stares down at him, wide-eyed and wanting in a way that Steve can't remember seeing in years. Then something comes over his face and he shakes his head. "No," Tony snaps back, vehement in his dismissal. "No, Rogers. We're doing this my way or not at all. That means you're giving Barnes to me and letting me do whatever it takes to bring him in."

"Done." The word slips from Steve's lips before he can think better of it. Then again, is there anything he wouldn't do for Tony if he asked?

Tony raises an eyebrow. "You know what I'm going to do when I get my hands on him?"

Steve swallows. He hadn't thought that far ahead. Then he looks up into Tony's eyes and sees just how deep the grief runs. He gets slowly to his feet, reaching out to take Tony's hands in his. Tony jerks in his grasp, but Steve holds on tight enough that he can't pull away entirely. "I know what you want to do. I don't blame you for that. But I also know that you're a good man, Tony. Too good not to acknowledge the reality of what Bucky has been through. You're not going to do anything you can't take back. That's not in your character. You may push him to his limits, but you're not going to take his life. If there's one thing the last few years have shown me, it's that."

Tony blinks. Rhodes pauses just out of Tony's line of sight, looking at Steve as though he's never seen him before. Because he hasn't, Steve supposes. "That giddy optimism is utterly appalling at times, Rogers."

Steve lets the smile spread over his features. It's an empty, aching sort of hope that fills his chest, but that's more than he's had in a long time. "What can I say?" Steve chokes out. "It's one of my greatest traits."

Tony rolls his eyes, his shoulders relaxing from where they've come up around his ears. "Whatever you say, Captain Confidence."

Steve laughs. It's not the moniker he's used to, but there's something to be said for novelty. Maybe this time around, everything won't go to hell in a handbasket.

* * *

Steve loses track of Tony at some point, about a third of the way into the fight. Rhodes is laying down cover from the air, Peter's leaping and dodging around like he was made for this, and Steve himself is embroiled with both Sam and Scott. The whole thing should be almost laughably easy, but somehow everything is just a hair's breadth off from what Steve expects, so that it leaves him wrong-footed and uncomfortable through the whole fight.

It isn't until he's got Scott immobilized and his suit incapacitated while Rhodes works on grounding Sam that he realizes that, at no point during the last ten minutes, has he seen Tony.

Steve's heart crawls its way into his throat, beating a tattoo against his aorta while he tries to think back to the last time he saw Tony. Tony, at the edges of the fight, sneaking off to where Nat was supposed to be and, oh, God, could Tony have—

Steve doesn't even bother securing Sam before he's off at a run towards where he'd once escaped with Bucky in tow. When he gets there, the bloodbath is nearly over. Tony's on his back, Cap holding him to the ground with his knees on Tony's triceps and a hand at Tony's throat, while Bucky stands guard behind them. Steve isn't as cautious as he perhaps should be, if the way Bucky's gun comes up and levels at his chest is any indication. Steve pulls up short, breath coming in ragged pants as he stares down at the tableau in front of him.

Tony, for his part, only has eyes for Cap. Steve lets the familiar ache of want settle in his belly, an old friend and companion that he's carried with him for the last several years. Still, there's nothing he can do here but try to mitigate the damage that's been done.

"Let him up."

Steve keeps his voice as calm and level as he can manage while he moves slowly toward the trio. Bucky shifts his gun, taking half a step toward Steve. It's enough to have Steve pulling up short. "I'm not going to do anything to interfere," he says directly to Bucky. "I just need Cap to let him up."

"And what's to stop him going after Bucky again if I do?"

Steve doesn't flinch at the sound of his own voice. Too many lifetimes with a mirror image of himself at his side have cured him of that. Steve just moves slowly toward the three of them, trying to keep everyone calm. Trying not to spook anyone. "Not a damn thing but the goodness in his heart and the patience he has for the people he loves."

Cap snorts. "There's no love left here."

Steve fights to keep his eyes open. He refuses to let himself look down to see Tony's expression. The minute, wounded sound Tony makes is telling enough. "Be that as it may," he says, "the two of you have enough history. There's plenty you two can do to bridge the gap. You know that, I know that, everyone here knows that. All that's missing is your conviction. You have to decide that you want this, Cap. You're the one that can make a difference here."

Looking back, it takes Steve a solid seventeen tries to recreate exactly what happened next. In the moment, though, all he gets are flashes of movement. Moments of change. Tiny shifts in opportunity and possibility and options. Things he could have leveraged with more time. Time he didn't have.

In the moment, all Steve gets is Cap shifting slightly, Tony moving in concert, and then two rapid shots fired, Steve will learn too late, from Bucky's gun.

In the moment, all Steve can see is the blood spreading from Tony's forehead and pooling beneath his neck.

Steve stares down at the tableau before him, heart frozen in his chest. Then it starts to beat double time as he reaches for Bucky behind him, bending the gun in two before Bucky can recover from his own shock. "You have no idea what you've just done," he hisses in Bucky's face. Then he's turning away, ignoring the regret and remorse in Cap's face as he looks down at Tony. Steve has no time for that. Right now he needs to get Tony home and—

And what? What can he do at this point? There's no way he survived two bullets to the head. God. _God_ , what is even happening right now? How could this have gone so fucking wrong so fast?

Steve drops to his knees as he tries not to let the worst of things overtake his heart and mind. He swallows thickly, trying to drag his mind around to something honest and helpful and true. This is what the whole world has narrowed down to for him, to Tony on the ground before him, dead and gone all over again.

Steve looks up at Bucky and Cap, at the people that have ripped the light of his soul away from him yet again. It's impossible that the world could have given or taken anything more, anything less, and left him any more or less devastated. There's a whole world laid out before him, painted blood red and dead before his eyes. There's so much here, so much more that he could have made this out to be if they hadn't— if _he_ hadn't— God. God, what has the world come to that this is all Steve has left of his world?

Cap and Bucky both look stunned by the vehemence of Steve's reaction. He can feel the keening whine in the back of his throat, hear the way it's rising to a fever pitch, to a scream, but he can't stop it. He screams until his lungs are empty, until they burn with the loss the way the rest of his soul is burning.

As the sound dies, Bucky takes a step toward him, feet shuffling across the concrete. "Stevie, you know I never meant—"

"I know." Steve cuts Bucky off. "I know."

Cap, though, doesn't say a damn thing. He just glares over at Steve, body still nestled atop Tony's corpse. That's what gets to Steve. He throws himself to his feet and leaps at Cap, throwing him off Tony's body and ducking away from Bucky's gun. For a moment, he thinks Bucky's going to try to shoot him too, but something must hold him back. Maybe it's that he looks like Bucky's Cap, or maybe that he's too similar to the boy he'd grown up protecting. Whatever it is, it saves Steve from Bucky's bullets and gets him to Tony's body in one piece.

Tony's eyes are wide open, staring unseeing at the sky. Steve's heart leaps into his throat, his whole body going tight and tense as he tries to reconcile what he's seeing with what he knows to be right and good and true in the world. He can't kneel here and stare down at a dead Tony and think it's anything but a goddamn tragedy. This isn't what Tony deserves, isn't what the universe deserves — and, God, what does this mean for Thanos? What does this mean for the trillions of lives that are going to be lost in two years' time? What is any of this going to mean or be worth or—

But then, it doesn't matter, does it? Steve's not going to stay here much longer, and that's all that's going to end up mattering in the end. He closes his eyes and sinks into the want in his belly. The whole world could be falling apart and none of that would matter as much as the way Tony's face looks on the ground in front of him. He reaches out, closing Tony's eyes with all the reverence he has for the man, and lets the whole world settle into place against his shoulders. This is his lot in life now, to follow Tony and watch the way he falls to the weight of the world that he takes onto his shoulders.

Because he knows Tony well enough now, after so many years in his presence. He knows that, no matter how angry he might have been at Bucky, at Cap, he would never have truly tried to kill them. Mutilate, perhaps. Incapacitate, to be sure. But kill? He'd only do that as an absolute last resort. He's not a man of murder, and he'd known that Steve was there to have his back. He'd never have defaulted to murder if there was any other choice, and in this case there were plenty of other choices.

Nor can he hold Bucky accountable in this case. Bucky knows how powerful Tony is, must have known how much damage he could do, how much danger was in the palm of Tony's hands. If he'd had any reason to believe that Tony intended to hurt Cap, he'd certainly have done whatever it took to keep Cap safe. Even if that meant returning to his training as a sniper. Even if that meant relying on his programming as the Winter Soldier. He'd always done whatever it took to keep Steve safe, and in this there can be no doubt that keeping Cap safe was his greatest, truest goal.

No. It isn't Tony or Bucky that he blames for this mess. Isn't either of the men he's sworn to protect that he thinks are to blame for what's happened. The only person to blame for this is the one that's staring at Tony in disbelief from where he's kneeling at Bucky's side. His other self.

Steve looks down at Tony, running his hand along his face. It takes all his willpower not to lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then he looks back up at Bucky and Cap, letting his eyes go steely. "Make sure Thor goes for the head the first time," he says, voice low and dangerous as he meets Cap's gaze. "You're damned if he doesn't."

"What the hell does that—"

Rhodes touches down, arms raised and ready to fire at Cap and Bucky. Steve doesn't hold him back from the intent. "Get Tony back home," he says to Rhodes. The man glances down at him for the briefest of moments before turning back to Cap and Bucky. There's no verbal assent in that motion, but Steve can hear the simultaneous agreement and condemnation regardless. "And don't be afraid to do what needs to be done."

Rhodes' lips thin at that, and Steve has to force himself to look away. There's nothing left in this world for him. It's not his universe to save. He's saved enough lives already, but never the life he wants to save. That's what this has all been about, truly, and that's what it's going to continue to be about going forward. This is the whole of reality laid out before him, the whole of _his_ reality dead on the cold ground, and that's enough of a sign for him that this isn't the universe for him.

He gets to his feet, pulling the Stones from their pocket dimension. "Take care of each other."

It's the last words he speaks before he lets the power of the Stones pull him into the flow of time and becomes whatever it is that the multiverse needs of him this time to save Tony. He's not going to give up, not now, not ever, and that's got to be worth more than whatever is waiting for him here. He reaches through time and reality to find what he needs, grasps it with two hands, and lets the Stones reach into his soul and _pull_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This particular lifetime gets pretty intense and a little graphically violent; if your emotions are as tender as mine are after living through the longest November 3rd of our lives, I would recommend taking some time before reading this. Or leaning into the pain and getting it all over with now. Your call!

2016 wraps her familiar arms around him, drawing him in. By now, Steve should know better than to risk marching into the compound with nothing more than the clothes on his back. But he does it anyway, makes his way into the compound and stands and stares down the men and women that exist at this crucial moment in time. There's so much power and potential here in this room and Steve can't help but wonder what on earth this is going to end up being to them. To him. There's so much he needs to say, to do, and there's no way it's going to end up the way he wants it to. The way he needs it to.

Still. He has to try.

He slips past the room where they're holding court, debating the relative merits of the Accords. Steve couldn't care less at this point. What matters to him is what happens to Tony. He makes his way into the kitchen, hoping against hope that his suspicions are correct and that FRIDAY will lead Tony to him.

He isn't disappointed.

"So," Tony says when he comes in to refill his coffee cup. "Clone, shapeshifter, or just a really good disguise?"

Steve smiles at that, the familiarity in Tony's question crawling under his skin and leaving warmth in its wake. "None of the above," he says, smiling at how smoothly the words come. "You know I'd never willingly let someone make a clone of me, the last shapeshifter I met didn't have any skin in this particular game, and you know FRIDAY's protocols better than anyone — she'd never let anyone but the genuine article in."

"Okay then, so what are you?"

"A time traveler."

Tony's eyes go wide, looking stunned and intrigued all at the same time. "Is that right?" Then his face goes tight. "Is this about the Accords?"

It's a deviation from their script, but Steve doesn't mind. Every timeline has been different, and there's no reason to think that this one would be an exception. "Yes and no."

Tony hums, lifting his mug to his lips as he surveys their companions in the next room. "You're gonna have to give me more than that."

"I'm here to fix the future. There are terrible things coming down the pipeline, things that none of us are strong enough to defeat alone. It's only by uniting forces that we can prevent the worst from happening."

Tony snorts. "You know I'm all about teamwork, Cap—" Tony doesn't seem to miss the way Steve flinches at the nickname, but he steamrolls right ahead, "—but it's your counterpart that seems to be against all that."

"I know." Tony blinks at Steve's decisive words. "I know he's full of shit right now and that working together is the last thing on his mind. That's why I'm here."

"What, to change his mind?"

"To show you that you're in the right here. And to arm you with the information you need to protect yourself and the people you care about."

Tony lowers his mug, staring at Steve thoughtfully. "You really think you have something important that I don't already know?"

Steve blinks. It's an angle he's never thought of before. The idea that Tony might have already known the terrible truth of what Steve had kept from him. But no, if Tony had known, he wouldn't have been as surprised in Siberia. He wouldn't have been as vulnerable, wouldn't have succumbed to the pain and terror of being attacked two-on-one by someone he'd purported to trust and a man that had taken so much from him. Steve can't wrap his brain around what that must have been like, to face down Steve himself and Bucky, fighting in concert the way they always had.

Steve swallows. "I do."

Tony hums. He lifts his mug to his lips again, staring at Steve over the rim. "Alright, hit me."

"Hydra was involved in your parents' deaths."

Tony rolls his eyes. "Obviously."

"What?" Steve startles. "You knew that?"

"JARVIS ran plenty of deep scans on the SHIELD infodump you and Nat pulled off a few years ago. He found enough enough declassified files on my dad that it wasn't that hard to figure out that their deaths weren't an accident."

It's not the first time Tony's surprised him like this, but it certainly is a bigger surprise than anything Tony's hit him with in the last few years. "You knew?"

"I knew." Then Tony's eyes shift from smug to shrewd. "Wait. Why do _you_ know that?"

Steve's mind is still reeling from the revelation that Tony had known the truth — so then what had sent him off the deep end in Siberia? — that he doesn't answer in time. Before Steve can say a damn thing, Tony comes to the correct conclusion himself.

"Barnes. The Winter Soldier. Your best friend."

Steve shakes himself, wiping away the stupor. "What?"

"That's why you know. Barnes was involved in their deaths. You know because you read all of his files. You know because—" Tony's breath catches. "You know because he's the only person you've ever given a damn about."

Steve's starts to reach out for Tony, shaking his head. He pulls back at the last minute. "Tony, that's not—" But the word doesn't make it past his lips because at this point in his life it would be true. He wouldn't have given a damn about anything or anyone but Bucky. With Peggy's death so close on the horizon and his only other tie to the past about to be severed, Steve knows that there's plenty he would have done to keep Bucky safe, even if that meant lying to Tony. He bows his head. "I can see why it would look that way to you."

"Because it's the truth," Tony snaps, "isn't it?"

Steve lets himself give a small half-smile at that. "At this point in time, yeah, I suppose it is."

"Right," Tony scoffs, "but because you're a _time traveler_ you get to stand there and tell me that everything's going to be different in the future."

Steve wants to say it will be. Wants so desperately to help Tony understand what Tony means to him. But there's no denying that it took losing Tony for Steve to finally reconcile the way his chest had always pulled in Tony's direction with the depth of feeling he has for the man. He reaches up to swipe at bangs that aren't there, trying in vain to hide the want in his eyes. "I want to say that," Steve manages, voice softer than he wants it to be. "But I can't say it truthfully."

Tony's answering laugh is sharp and harsh. Self-deprecating in that way that only Tony is. "Right," he says sharply. "Should've known better than to think you came back for me."

That stops Steve short. "What?"

"This is about Barnes, isn't it? Something's about to go wrong with him and you're here to stop it."

Steve blinks in Tony's direction. "No. No, that's not it at all."

"Then what is it?"

"I came back for _you_ , Tony." Steve feels the desperation in his bones in a way he'd never anticipated. "I came back for you."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't realize how much you mean to me until it was too late."

Tony freezes, eyes wide with an aching sort of pain that Steve can't parse. Then he closes his eyes, lowering them in time with his mug. "I see."

Steve's chest goes tight at the defeat in Tony's voice. His heart leaps into his throat and it's all he can do not to lunge at the man and drag him out of whatever pit of despair he's just sunken into. All he wants is for Tony to live his life free and unfettered, unencumbered by the weight and pain of his past. If he can't give Tony that, then what the hell was all of this for? Steve reaches out, fingers brushing along the back of Tony's hand, trying to anchor him back to the world. Tony jerks his hand away, spilling coffee across the countertop. 

There's too much here, too much of an ache and a pain in Tony's eyes for Steve to do anything but let it wash over him in turn.

He bows his head. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well. You never really needed me anyway, did you?"

Steve's head jerks up, staring at Tony wide-eyed and floored. "That's not—"

"Don't lie, Rogers. You know as well as I do that you never needed us the way we needed you."

"I always needed you," Steve counters, his voice hoarse with desperation. "I always will need you. Never doubt that. Just because I was too much of an idiot to see it doesn't mean I didn't need you."

Tony swallows. "Right," he whispers. "Right, I guess so." He turns to wipe down the spill on the counter, but doesn't meet Steve's eyes.

There's a moment where Steve thinks they might be able to move forward from this. Where they might be able to change the trajectory that they're on. But there's no way the rest of this is going to go down as easily as this part has, if this part could even be called easy. Steve just wants to give Tony the life that he's always deserved, and if he can't do that, if that life doesn't include him, then what the hell is he even doing?

"Don't stress your pretty little head about it," Tony mutters. "We both know you're the better one of the two of us."

Before Steve can reply, Cap's darting out of the other room without even glancing at the two of them. Steve thinks that might be for the best if it means that he can get away with hiding just a little bit longer. Whatever it takes. Whatever is going to come of this. It has to be better than what Steve has left behind. This is his whole world, his body and being made whole by standing before Tony, and Steve can't help but want more. It's all he's ever wanted. All he wants is Tony.

"Where's he off to in such a rush?"

Steve's heart goes tight with the memory. It's more distant now, tempered by the years he got to spend with Peggy in the 70's those few lifetimes ago, but the loss of her still hurts. "He just found out that Peggy's dead."

"Aunt Peggy's dead?"

Steve turns to look at Tony. Remembers all at once that, even in that first timeline, Peggy's reach had extended further than he'd ever given her credit for. "Yes."

Tony inhales sharply, his head snapping around to follow after Steve. "He gonna be able to get to the funeral okay?"

Steve's heart breaks in his chest at the knowledge that Tony's putting Cap's happiness first even though he knows he's being lied to. He stares at Tony's profile, at the ache and want and hope in his eyes, and the way he sways after Cap as though wondering if he can follow him. "He'll be fine."

Tony's eyes cut over to Steve's. "What, because you were?"

"Yes," Steve says, voice even and level. "Because he can handle this just as well as I can."

Tony tilts his head to the side. "Huh. Well okay then."

Steve looks away first. There's so much here that he can't even begin to fathom, the kind of want and need and connection in Tony's eyes that he doesn't think he gets to have. There's too much here in Tony's eyes to be anything but honest, and Steve doesn't dare take any of that away from him. He's here as little more than a witness anyway, a meager attempt at meddling in the unending, impossible flow of time. This is Tony's world, Tony's and Cap's, and if Steve doesn't get to have a say in any of this, then so be it.

Tony's still staring after Cap when the thought comes to Steve. "You could go with him, you know."

Tony turns to look at him. "Come again?"

"He might appreciate another friendly face."

Tony's face turns skeptical. "You think?"

Steve shrugs. "Couldn't hurt."

Tony looks away. "No," he murmurs. "No, I don't suppose it could."

If Steve had known just how wrong this was all going to go, he'd take those words back right then and there.

* * *

Tony and Cap's conversation after the service is an absolute disaster. Steve doesn't have to be there to know how badly it went. The stormy look on Tony's face when he makes it back to the compound is telling enough.

"Couldn't hurt, you said," Tony snaps as soon as he lays eyes on Steve. "Might appreciate another friendly face, you said." Tony's laugh is raw and harsh, pulling at Steve's chest. "You're so full of shit."

"It went that badly, huh?"

"You should have known," Tony replies, bitter and angry. "You're him, aren't you?"

"In a manner of speaking. But I'm a version of him that has more experience under his belt. More life lived behind him. Sometimes I forget how naïve and arrogant I used to be."

Tony stills. "Arrogant?"

Steve shrugs. "The first time I lived this through was one of the worst weeks of my life, Tony. I didn't realize it at the time, but the decisions I made here changed everything. There's no way I would do this the same way again, given the chance. No way."

Tony stares at him. "What would you change?"

Steve meets his gaze head on, hoping he can convey all of his remorse in that single look. "Everything."

Tony's breath hitches, but he doesn't say anything at first. "Huh," he whispers finally, a small, curious smile on his features. "Huh."

Steve's chest goes tight. He isn't sure quite what to say, isn't sure what he can do to change Tony's mind. To make him understand. There's no way to get to the core of Tony's mind and soul, to show him the true depth and breadth of Steve's failures, but if he can help him understand even a sliver of what's happened, maybe that will be enough.

Maybe.

* * *

It isn't. There's a whole deluge of issues that follow them from that moment on, stealing every second Steve might have had to explain things to Tony. There's so much here, so much going on, and Steve can't let himself believe that it was anything but meant to be. He has to fight through, has to reach into the center of his chest and pull out the deepest, darkest truths that might still have held tight to his ribs. He needs Tony to understand, needs all of them to understand, needs to make the world theirs again so that there's nothing left to worry about but their lives and the potential future that exists before them. He needs to make Tony understand that there's a purpose to all of this.

And so when they land in Siberia chasing his other self, Steve hopes against hope that this might be the moment he was looking for. That he might be able to save Tony this pain, might be able to take away the worst of his ache and loss and hurt and make the world a better, warmer, safer place. At some point Steve must have understood the point in all of this, must have known that it would all be worth it in the end. There's a world out there waiting for them, a whole world waiting for them to take charge of, and Steve can't breathe through the chill in the air. Damning and ominous and so much more, so much worse than he ever remembers it being before. There's a whole chance to change everything, to remake the whole world in their image. He just so desperately wants to make the world theirs, wants to make this their home again, wants to help Tony live his life the way he wants to. Wants to give Tony the life he deserves. And if that happens here in the cold of a Siberian winter, then so be it.

It's only been a few days since the last time this happened, since the last time he stood tall fighting Bucky while Tony fought Cap. But this time there's something different. This time, Bucky throws him aside like a ragdoll when he's distracted by Tony, and Steve knows in his heart that something's going to happen in that moment. He looks up just in time to see Cap turning away from Bucky to face Tony, to see the way he drives his shield into Tony's helmet, knocking it aside. Tony looks up at him, and there's a moment where Steve sees what's going to happen before it does. He sees the way Tony's hands fall away from his face, hears the way he lets out a slow breath, feels the anger in his counterpart's limbs. Before he can process anything, his counterpart is bringing his shield down, down, down and Steve can't _breathe_ because he has to stop this, but he can't, he can't.

The scream that rips itself from his lips comes too late. Tony's blood is already on the floor of the bunker.

Steve scrambles to his feet, crossing the room in a rush. He knocks Cap off of Tony, briefly stunned at how easily he goes. But there's no time or space in his mind to reconcile that reality with the more important one on the ground before him.

Tony, his throat severed clean in two by the edge of the shield.

* * *

Steve doesn't have to look to know that Cap's staring at his shield in shock and disbelief, realizing what it is that he's just done. There's too much going on, too much happening too quickly, and Steve knows there's not enough time for him to stop this from blowing up in his face. They're not going to make it through this, past it, into the great wide world beyond into whatever it is that they're meant to be.

God. He really has fucked this up.

What the hell had Tony been thinking? He remembers the way those hands, that desperate, fearful face had slowed him in his swing. He remembers what Tony had looked like, bloody and frightened on the ground beneath him. Tony's dead (again, again, dead _again_ ) and there's nothing Steve can do for this man.

"He wasn't fighting back," Cap whispers. Steve turns to face him, heart in his throat as the truth of those words sink in. "Not at full strength. He wasn't fighting back."

Steve shakes his head. "That's impossible. Why the hell wouldn't he—" And then he remembers. The lost look on Tony's face. The sadness in his eyes when he'd realized that Cap— that his Steve had lied to him. There's something to be said for the power of loss, for the ache of missing someone, and Steve might not know that the same way Tony does, but he knows it better than most. "Fuck."

"Why the hell wouldn't he fight back?" Cap mirrors Steve's thoughts, but Steve already knows the answer. He almost doesn't want to tell the man, almost doesn't want to let him have that moment, that insight into Tony's brilliant mind. If he can't figure it out himself, he doesn't deserve to know

But that isn't true. Isn't fair. "He was tired of being lied to," Steve murmurs, eyes back on Tony's still form. "Tired of being second best to the past in your eyes. He didn't want to do that any longer."

"But he has a life here. People that care about him. A world that he can save."

"And one of your people just knocked his best friend out of the sky. One of his other best friends broke up with him three weeks ago, and Happy? Happy's spending all his time working for Pepper. He's not in Tony's life anymore, not the way he used to be. How alone must he have felt? To know that there was no one, nothing else waiting for him at home that he could trust? That the one person on the team he'd trusted never to lie to him had done precisely that for the last two years? What the hell else was he supposed to do?"

Cap stares back at him. Steve can feel the ache in his eyes, knows what it's like to want and feel and _hurt_ that badly. He understands, but there's nothing he can do about it at this point. God. Had he always been this blind? This naïve? He must have. How else would he have gotten to this point in the first place?

Steve shakes his head, trying to clear it. "You couldn't have known how deep this would run. How far it would go. There's too much at stake here for you not to understand. You need to look me in the eye and tell me you didn't know how badly it would hurt him."

Cap doesn't answer. There's a long moment where Steve thinks he might not. Then there's a shift of metal on metal, vibranium on steel, and Steve knows what that is. Knows what's happening. This is his whole world, his entire being made whole, and he knows what Cap's going to say before he says it. "I didn't know."

Steve laughs. It feels hollow and aching and lost. "Of course you didn't. Why the hell would you? You don't know a damn thing about him."

"The hell does that mean?"

"It means you never stopped to listen to what he wanted. What he needed. You never looked deep enough to know what was happening under the surface. Tony's always run deeper and hotter than either of us gave him credit for. He deserved so much more than we gave him. He deserved you, Cap. Not whatever fucking imitation you thought was good enough to give him."

Cap makes a strange sound, and Steve opens his eyes, turning to face the man. Cap narrows his eyes. "And what makes you an expert on Tony Stark?"

Steve smiles, weak and a little sad. "Nothing. I'm just the hopeless sap that's spent the last five decades and more trying to save his life. He's stronger than any of us ever gave him credit for and now you've damned more than just our planet. You've damned the whole fucking universe." Before Cap can say anything to derail the conversation any further, Steve eases his arms under Tony's body, one under his shoulders and one under his knees, lifting him into his arms. Tony's head lolls against his shoulder and blood stains his uniform in a matter of seconds. Steve swallows through the thickness in his throat. "He's a better man than I ever could be, and if that doesn't mean he deserves a hell of a life to live, then I don't know what would."

"You're saying he—"

Steve turns, his eyes finding Cap's immediately and unerringly. "He's always been the kind of guy to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over him. When there wasn't any other choice, he was always, _always_ the better man. Even in this. He's always been a better man than either of us could ever have dreamed of being."

Cap stares at him, meeting his eyes head on. "You really believe that."

"I know that. In my timeline he gave his life to save the whole entire universe."

Cap's face hardens. "We don't trade lives."

Steve's answering laugh is hollow and broken. "When have we ever been able to make Tony do anything he didn't want to do? When have we ever been able to stop him from doing something he'd set his mind to? We never would have been able to stop him, even if we'd known what he was doing. Besides," he adds, looking away to the man in his arms. "It's not like you really seem to believe that." Steve turns away from Cap's indignant sound. "You should see to Bucky's arm."

Then he's off, heading back to the chopper that certainly must have landed somewhere nearby, if previous iterations of this moment have been any indication. There has to be something here, some way for Steve to make this all right. But he already knows that there isn't. Tony's dead and gone, and all that's left to do is for him to bring his body to Rhodey and Pepper, the only people in this world that have loved him the way he deserved to be loved since day one.

* * *

The flight back to the States is empty, hollow and hurting in a way that Steve has learned over and over again that the world is when Tony isn't in it. He shoots Pepper an email from Tony's phone and isn't at all surprised to find that she's already there when he lands. She looks as radiant and desperate as she had that day that Carol had brought Tony back to them so many years ago. Steve doesn't want to be the bearer of terrible news in a way so disparate from the way Carol had been all those years ago, but he is, and he knows there's no way around that.

He carries Tony cradled in his arms, with only the Iron Man suit to hide the damage his other half had done to Tony's neck. There's so much going on here, Rhodes and Vision and Pepper all standing there in varying degrees of disarray as they wait for the explanation that they seem to think Steve can give.

He has none.

It's Pepper that seems to understand first. She approaches Steve with tired eyes, reaching down to brush blood-matted hair from Tony's eyes. "I know he always thought highly of you, Steve. He really did."

Steve's throat goes tight. "He only ever had eyes for you."

Pepper looks up at him, something sad and a little lost in her expression. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

Steve frowns. "Of course I do, Pepper. He loved you. He always did."

"I'm not disputing that. But we both know he loved you too."

Steve tightens his grip on Tony, pulling him closer to his chest. "What?"

Pepper smiles sadly at him. "He loved you too, Steve. So much. Why do you think we broke up? Personal differences? We figured those out years ago." She shakes her head. "He could never get his head out of the superhero game. You understood that better than I ever could. Better than I was even willing to try. You gave him the life he wanted, Steve. You let him be the hero he'd never let himself believe he could be."

Steve looks down at Tony in his arms, small and aching and lost. "Oh."

Pepper reaches up, cupping his cheek in her hand. "I'm so sorry."

Steve shakes his head. "You don't have to be. I'm not done doing whatever it takes to save him."

Pepper blinks. "He's dead, Steve."

"Only in this timeline."

Steve steps past Pepper, carrying Tony the rest of the way into the compound. He lays his body out on the reinforced bed in Medical and steps back. If this isn't going to be enough, he's going to have to try again. However many times it takes, he'll do this. He'll save Tony or die trying.

(And if he loses himself along the way, that's the least he owes Tony after what is counterpart has just done.)


	5. Chapter 5

Steve feels the pain down to his bones when he makes his way up into the compound. He's seen Tony killed too many times, been the cause of his death every single time, and this, somehow, is what breaks him. Seeing Tony there in the compound, hale and hearty, living and breathing and so much more than Steve ever could have thought he would be. He stares at the man where he's gesticulating in Cap's direction, trying to make him understand everything that Tony himself already knows. And Cap, sitting there, stoic as anything, the pair of them ready to go toe-to-toe without realizing the cost.

Tony steps out of the conference room first. He meets Steve's eyes, but seems too tired to be on high alert. "Clone, shapeshifter, or just a really good disguise?"

Steve looks away. His throat is too tight to respond.

"Do I need to get someone in here to take you out?"

"You could take me out in a heartbeat if you decided you wanted to, Tony." Steve bows his head, already regretting the implication. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"That so?"

"Yes. I'm here to—" Steve cuts himself off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter what I'm here for, I guess."

Tony doesn't say anything as he crosses the kitchenette to pour himself a mug of coffee. The rant that usually accompanies this action is noticeably absent, and Steve can't help the way he turns to face Tony, a comet in orbit around his sun. "That doesn't sound like the Steve Rogers I know."

Steve closes his eyes, sinking into the sound of Tony's voice. God, he's so tired. Tired of watching Tony die, tired of hearing every single way he's failed Tony. Tired of never being enough. "That's because I'm not."

He can hear the clack of Tony's lifts as Tony approaches him, but he doesn't open his eyes. Whatever Tony's bringing his way isn't worth the pain that seeing his face, alive and whole, hale and hearty will instill in him. Then a hand comes up to cup his cheek and Steve can't help the way his eyes startle open.

"Tony?"

Tony's face is soft with sympathy, warm and welcoming in a way that Steve had forgotten he could be. Or maybe this was something he had never seen before. God knows he's never deserved the kind of warmth he can see in Tony's face before. "What happened, Steve?"

Steve leans in against the warmth and weight of Tony's hand, letting Tony take some of the heaviness he's carried around in his chest for so long. "Everything."

Tony hums, stroking his thumb over the arch of Steve's cheek. "That so?"

Steve nods. His throat is still too tight to say anything more, but he won't deny Tony anything. There's a moment where Steve thinks Tony might leave it at that. Might release him and go about his business as usual, leaving Steve to trail behind him, lost and adrift without Tony to lead him.

Instead he pulls Steve in close, his hand sliding around to the back of Steve's neck and pressing his head down to nestle against Tony's neck. Steve inhales deeply, partially from the surprise, partially from the want in his belly that comes from being so close to Tony. He wants so badly to ask, to speak Tony's name, but his lips won't let anything slip past them, lest he lose this moment of warmth and comfort. He sags against Tony's body, letting himself _feel_ in a way that he never has before. In a way that he might never get to again.

All too soon, someone is pulling him away. A firm hand at the back of his neck that somehow has the strength to pull Steve away. He doesn't fight too hard, his focus caught on the way Tony lurches toward him, eyes wide and lost before going hard. "Cap."

Steve slouches in his counterpart's hold. He knows already that he's too late; the last thing he wants is to have that thrown in his face yet again.

"What the hell is this, Tony?"

"It's you." Tony doesn't look away from Cap, and Steve can tell he's gunning for a fight. "Can't you see that? You of all people should know what you look like."

"And you just let some… some shapeshifter in here just because you felt like it?"

"FRIDAY's protocols are too good for all that. You know that. He's the real deal."

"Your tech's been beaten out before."

Steve moves automatically, elbowing his counterpart in the gut and forcing him to release his hold. "Just because you don't understand a damn thing about his tech doesn't mean you get to pretend it's anything less than the best."

Cap stares at him, already straightening to his full height. "Yeah? What makes you so sure?"

Steve wants so badly to point out every time Tony's saved his ass already, wants to make it clear that Cap would know what he does if he'd just choose to be a little less stubborn, but he knows that won't get him anywhere. "Because I've seen his tech work for years. I know what he's capable of. Don't pretend you don't know too."

Cap doesn't show his defeat outwardly, but Steve knows himself well enough to see the concession in his eyes. Instead of admitting it, though, he changes tactics. "And you? What the hell are you even doing here?"

Steve shrugs. "Just trying to fix my mistakes."

"Mistakes?"

Steve meets Cap's eyes head on. "The world isn't as simple as you want it to be, Rogers. I'm not saying everything Tony says is right, but ignoring him completely isn't the way to go either. You don't have to accept everything they're putting on the table. You just have to admit that something's got to change. Tony's not saying they're completely in the right, but if we don't let them have their pound of flesh on our terms, they'll take it on their own."

Cap stares at him blankly. Something like understanding moves over his features, but Steve can already tell it might not be enough.

"Just trust him, Cap. Is that really so impossible for you?"

Cap frowns, his face shifting with curiosity and concern. "I do trust him."

"Not with what really matters."

Cap's eyes widen with understanding. He opens his mouth, not to tell Tony anything to be sure, but to ask Steve. Steve can tell just from the shift of his features. He looks away from Cap, trying not to give too much away. That's the wrong call.

Cap crosses the room and gets a hand in Steve's collar. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Only the unimportant things."

"Where is he?"

"He should be the least of your worries right now."

Cap tightens his grip as though ready to choke Steve out. For a moment, Steve wishes he would.

"Cap." Tony's voice cuts through the room like a scalpel, getting under Steve's skin and leaving Cap relinquishing his grip. "Let the man speak."

Cap turns to look at him, skepticism in his expression. Steve almost spills all the information he has, everything that could ever have been theirs to discover. It would be so easy to tell them everything, to force their hand and remake this world in the image of the one he's lost. But that's too much for even him to think through. Too many variables and uncertainties that could change everything. When he's tried remaking the world that way before, it's only made things worse.

He shakes his head. "There's too much to say."

Tony rests his hand against Steve's elbow, tugging him in. "Then start wherever you can."

Steve looks down into his eyes, warm and brown and so much more than Steve deserves. He closes his eyes and turns away. "Tony—"

"You said you were a time traveler. What year are you from?"

Steve shakes his head. "That's complicated."

Tony stays silent for a moment. "So you've tried to change things before."

And isn't that just like Tony? To see through the fear in Steve's chest and get right to the heart of him? "Yes."

"How many times?"

"Too many."

Tony's fingers twitch against the fabric of his suit. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Steve laughs, breathless with want. "I'm the one that's sorry, Tony."

Tony goes still in that way he so rarely does. Steve doesn't have to look at him to know that his mind is going a mile a minute to try to make that statement make sense. " _Oh_."

Steve laughs weakly. It's a sound he's heard before, but the weight of it never lessens. "Yeah. Oh."

Tony releases him. Steve hates the way that feels like giving up. "Then we'll make it different this time. We'll do whatever it takes."

Steve forces himself to look at Tony. "I know you'd do anything to fix this, Tony. That's who you are. You're not the one that broke everything." He cuts his eyes over to Cap in the other corner of the room. "I am."

Cap startles. His face hardens, battle-ready. "Just tell me what to do."

"Like you'll listen to me. You didn't the last three times."

Cap's eyes drift, going distant as he stares somewhere past Steve. He shakes it off and looks back at Steve. "Try me."

Somehow, Steve believes both of them. It's a weakness he can't afford to indulge. A weakness he can't afford to ignore. "You're going to get a text in the next ten minutes. Peggy's dead."

Tony's head snaps around to look at Cap, who looks as devastated as Steve himself had felt so many years ago. If only he'd known that that wasn't the worst it could get. "Sharon's going to give a speech. She's going to encourage you to hold to your principles. To ask the world to move when you are really the one that needs to take a moment and look around. Listen, but don't take it too much to heart. Things are going to go south real fast if you can't figure out how to give a little. Then the two of you are going to sit down and talk the way you haven't for the last three hours. You're going to listen and you're going to try your damnedest to hear what the other person is saying. And you're going to trust me."

Cap stiffens at that; Tony nods. "You got it."

"Tony—"

"No, Cap. If he really is who he says he is, if this is really the tipping point that destroys the future, you can be damn sure I'm not about to just let you off the hook. We're gonna figure this out and we're gonna fix things. Alright?"

Cap's eyes flicker over Tony's face, searching his expression. Steve can't look away, too terrified that he'll make the wrong call. There's a moment of indecision, and then his phone goes off, the text that damned Steve the first time coming through. Cap looks up at him, something shrewd and knowing in that expression. Steve stands up a little taller, not sure what he's trying to prove anymore but knowing that he has to.

Cap slouches with defeat. "Alright."

Steve isn't sure whether to count that as a win or not, right up until the moment that Cap looks up at Tony and says, "Come with me?" There's a thread of desperation, of hesitation in his tone, enough that Steve could almost feel for the man. For the pain and hurt and frustration that's coming. There's so much he wishes he could say and do, but none of that matters right now, when all that the two of them have is each other.

Tony's face shifts through six or seven different emotions before settling on the kind of warmth Steve has only ever seen directed at Morgan. "Of course."

Steve's chest tightens. There's a promise there, something that he hasn't seen in any of the last three iterations of this hellscape. Steve watches, struck by the ease with which Cap and Tony fall into step. He watches them go and wonders, not for the first time, what this could have been for him if he'd listened.

He wonders if he's about to find out.

* * *

Steve sneaks into the back of the funeral, watching with all the patience he can muster as Cap takes his place beside Peggy's sons. A man out of time. Though Steve knows what that feels like, he can't feel anything but trepidation as he watches Cap march down the aisle. Sharon's words are strong and true, pressing forward with conviction. Steve wonders what he could do or say to help her understand how misguided her words are. How much damage they're going to cause.

Cap hovers near the front, sandwiched between Nat and Tony as Sharon makes her way over to them. Steve ignores their words, focusing instead on the shift and play of their features. Steve knows that expression of Tony's, knows the way Natasha arches her eyebrow at Cap. Steve hopes, somewhere, deep in his soul, that there might be something more here, a chance at redemption for all of them.

When the UN blows, Steve does his damnedest to catch the impersonator. But even after the countless times he's watched this play out, even with how well he knows the tape, he's still a hair too slow to bring Zemo to justice in time. Except…

Except there's Cap, trailing him like a godsend, and all it takes is Cap's fist to his face for Zemo to drop like a bag of rocks.

"The hell is this?"

Steve blinks dumbly at Cap, who's hoisting Zemo-as-Bucky to his feet. "Impersonator," he manages. "There's a…" He gestures at his face, trying to make Cap understand the words he can't say.

Cap's eyes go wide and he scrabbles his fingers along Zemo's jaw, peeling the mask away. "Oh," Cap says, and Steve's in too much shock himself to parse the tone. "That's…." He shakes his head and turns toward Steve. "Objective?"

"Throw you and Tony off balance. He needed to destroy the team from the inside. Didn't quite know how big of a mistake he was making."

"Tony?" Cap frowns. "What does Tony have to do with Bucky?"

"I think the better question is what does Bucky have to do with Tony."

Cap frowns at him, the wheels turning in his head as he processes that statement. His eyes go wide and his fingers go lax on Zemo's collar. "You mean Buck…?"

"You knew it was a possibility. He just has the video proof that it happened."

Cap stares down at the mask in his hand, looking between it and Zemo as though trying to piece everything together. He looks up at Steve. "You gonna walk me through his plan?"

"Later. Right now, we need to secure Zemo and get Tony out of the line of fire."

"And Bucky?"

"I'll tell you what I know. It may not be accurate, but I'll tell you what I know, on one condition."

"Anything."

"You tell Tony the truth about his parents."

Cap stares at him, eyes wide and stunned. "Why would I do that?"

"Because in my timeline that secret was enough to tear the team apart. If I can prevent that, then maybe that will be enough to undo what happens. Maybe it will make a difference."

Cap considers this, head cocked to the side. "It's that bad?"

"Worse. Whatever you're thinking, it's worse."

"How do you know?"

"Because I didn't even have a concept of what it would be like for the entire universe to be torn apart in the blink of an eye at this point in my life. I daresay you don't either."

"Universe?"

"Universe."

Cap sets his jaw and nods sharply. "Alright. If you think it'll make a difference, I'll do it."

Steve nods in return. He reaches out to manhandle Zemo over his shoulders to carry him down to ground level. The chaos that always seems to follow in Steve's wake has followed him here as well, and there's not much he can do besides cover his face and let Cap lead the way to the detainment center. As soon as Zemo is securely in custody, Steve slinks back most of the way to the compound in a taxi, ready to run the last six miles just to try and clear his head. As he does, something in him shifts and melts, a kind of ease and hope that he hasn't had in decades. He'd thought, somehow, that this could make a difference, that hauling Cap and Tony into each other's paths might be enough, but he can't tell yet if it will be.

He sprints the last quarter-mile back to the compound in an attempt to quiet his mind a little further. It works to a point, but as soon as FRIDAY lets him into the compound, the brief sense of calm disappears. Whatever it was that had brought him this far doesn't seem to be enough to sustain him when faced with the life he could have lived. The life he could have shared with Tony and the rest of the Avengers if he had just been a little less cowardly. A little more like the man that Tony seemed to believe he was.

Steve shakes away that line of thinking and makes his way through the compound to the guest quarters. It's altogether too easy to settle back into this space, this role, and be the man that could have changed everything. If this goes the way he hopes, then maybe, just maybe, he can rest.

It's Tony that comes and finds him first. His hair is mussed and his face is red and it's all Steve can do not to dart in and take what isn't his. Instead he stands at parade rest in the clothes he'd scrounged from the common area and tries not to hate the knowing look in Tony's eyes.

"You knew."

Steve blinks. "I'm afraid you're going to have to be a bit more specific than that."

"About Barnes."

Steve hesitates a moment longer, unwilling to share that which his counterpart hasn't.

"You knew it wasn't him that blew up the UN."

Steve's heart falls. "I did."

"Who was Zemo to you? In your timeline?"

"He was the man that destroyed the Avengers. Or rather, the catalyst."

"Not the Accords?"

"The Accords helped, but they weren't the real cause. That was all—" Steve snaps his jaw shut, not ready to share too much, so much that it might destroy this careful balance of potential that's waiting before them.

"All what?"

Steve sets his jaw. "It's complicated."

Tony hums, stepping across the room toward Steve. "Then uncomplicate it."

Steve laughs, unbidden. "That was always more your area of expertise, wasn't it?"

Tony frowns. "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Pretending that this isn't your team too. Stop that."

Steve shakes his head, tightening his stance. "We were always your team first, Tony. I may have been the first Avenger, but you were the one that made us whole."

Tony's eyes go wide, as though he isn't quite sure how to take that. Then he shakes his head. "You can't mean that."

"I can and I do."

"Steve—"

Cap comes crashing into the room, eyes wild, fists clenched and ready for a fight. "Don't you dare," he hisses.

Steve startles. "What?"

"Don't you dare."

Steve blinks back at him dumbfounded, and turns to Tony, who looks just as perplexed.

Before either of them can speak, though, Cap barrels on through whatever they might have said. "You said it yourself, it's my secret to tell, not yours."

Ah, Steve thinks. So that's what this is about.

Steve looks away, clenching his eyes and his jaw in an effort not to preach. He's learned his lesson by now, knows better than to push where he isn't wanted, but there's something here, something in the air that has him wanting to break his vow.

Tony does it for him. "What are you even talking about, Cap? We were just having a conversation, it's not like he's going to tell me anything that will break the universe."

"I'm not worried about the universe." Cap's lips are pulled up in a snarl and Steve knows that expression all too well. That's a man ready to fight. "I'm just worried about this planet."

"Don't worry." Steve's jaw snaps shut after the instinctive outburst. Before he can think better of it, he's turning back to the pair of them. "I'm not about to fuck up your precious little bastion of calm before the storm."

Tony blinks, eyes wide and surprised at whatever he hears in Steve's voice. "What are you talking about?"

Steve shakes his head, suddenly too angry to be contained in his skin. "Ask your Cap over there. See if he's half the man you think he is. I'm going for a run." Steve storms out of the room, shouldering Cap roughly on his way out the door. Better for him to be gone than to let this blow up in his face in the heat of the moment. Better not to break what might yet be salvaged if he can avoid it.

Steve's ten miles out when he hears the telltale sound of Tony's repulsors coming up behind him. It's not that Steve thinks he can outrun them, but he's not sure he has the confidence to face him right now. So when Tony catches up to him, Steve knows he's got that burst of color on his cheeks and sheen of sweat on his face that always makes him feel weaker than he is. He doesn't slow down, not even when Tony pops the faceplate up on his suit to speak to him directly. "You knew."

Steve doesn't break stride. "I knew."

Tony stares at him for a moment before turning away and facing dead ahead. "You would never have told me, would you?"

"You-you or my version of you?" Steve huffs out a labored breath at that. He isn't being fair, and Tony— Tony just wants to to hear the truth. "I did wait too long to tell you the first time around. Every time I've tried to tell you since has blown up in my face. You're an easy man to anger, Tony, even though I know it never lasts."

"It might this time."

Steve keeps running, reveling in Tony's closeness as he does. "Maybe. I hope it won't. Or that you'll at least cut him some slack. He thought he was protecting you," Steve points out when Tony just huffs at him. "He was wrong, but he had his reasons."

"He should have trusted me."

Steve swallows, his throat dry. "Yes. Yes, I suppose I should have."

Tony blows out a sharp, harsh breath. "Look, it's not like I'm angry with _you_."

"You're angry with him," Steve says as he looks over at Tony. "I know. But he's who I would have been. I've been in his shoes before. If you can forgive me, you have to know that you might want to forgive him too. He's not perfect, but he's doing his best."

"Nobody's perfect."

 _I need to be_ , Steve thinks against his better judgment. He looks away, eyes dead ahead as he keeps running. _I need to be perfect. It's the only way I'm going to save you_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI: Here there be smut. Threesome smut. So just. Proceed with that in mind.

Cap and Tony spend the next three weeks dancing around each other. Steve watches the whole thing with a sick sort of fear in his gut. If they can't mend this friendship, then there's every possibility that Thanos is going to wreak just as much havoc as before, leaving them in the exact same situation, with Tony as the sacrificial lamb laid bare before the whole universe. Steve still hasn't found the magic combination of time and words that will save him. But if he has to, he'll do it a thousand times more. Whatever it takes to keep Tony safe.

It's as three weeks turn to four that Steve first catches sight of the change in the pair of them. Cap starts showing up at breakfast more often, and Tony leaves less often when he enters the room. It's not the easy companionship that Steve had wanted for the two of them, but it's something that might get there one day. That's all Steve wants for Tony.

So the first time he catches the two of them making out in the kitchen, he's not as surprised as he thinks he should be.

It's Tony who notices him right away. He pulls back, shoving at Cap's shoulders and bringing the back of his hand to his mouth, as though to hide what they had just been doing. Steve wants to put him out of his misery, but his vocal cords don't seem to be working. Certainly not well enough to get any sort of excuse out.

"Steve—"

Steve isn't quite sure when Tony decided that he was _Steve_ out of the two of them, but right now it feels more like a condemnation than any sort of prize. "Sorry." His voice is a little louder than it needs to be, maybe even a touch hysterical, but that doesn't stop him from forging ahead. "Sorry, I'll just— I shouldn't have— I'm gonna—" He makes an aborted motion over his shoulder and has turned halfway around to get the hell out of dodge when Tony darts across the room and catches him by the wrist.

"Steve, just— Just let us explain."

"Don't see that there's much to explain." Steve's voice feels like dust and grit and the trenches on the back of his throat. "I just want you two to be happy." _To have what I was never brave enough to reach for._

"That's bullshit, Steve." An incredulous smile blooms on Steve's face at the tone in Tony's voice, as though laughing at the audacity of the statement. "You're just as hurt as you were when you first got here, just as worried and angry and lost as you've been the whole time. You deserve better than that. You deserve to have something that's real."

That kills the spot of joy in Steve's chest. He grits his teeth, trying desperately not to let Tony see him break. "What I deserve isn't what matters right now. I didn't do this for me. I did this for you."

"And you've done more than enough. You've saved me from finding out in the worst possible way, saved us from falling apart. You've given us a chance to be the team we've always needed to be. The team we never believed we could be."

"And I'm glad."

"But we all know that's not enough. You deserve more than just to fulfill a mission, Steve. You deserve real happiness." Before Steve can stop him, Tony's settled his fingertips in the crook of Steve's elbow and pushed up on his toes to brush a kiss over the corner of Steve's mouth. "You deserve to be loved."

Steve nearly goes to his knees right there. It's not that he'd never considered it. Long years between the snap and the time heist had left him plenty of time to work through some of what Tony had meant to him. It was why he'd skipped Morgan's birth. It was why he'd never met the girl until it was too late. He'd known Tony was important, quintessential, just as central to Steve's sense of self as Bucky and his mother. Tony had been the masterful counterpoint to Steve's militant rigidity, had done anything and everything to keep Steve grounded and centered in the 21st century. They'd never been close, and yet, they'd fallen into sync so quickly and so seamlessly that, back then, Steve couldn't help but wonder what else, exactly, he was supposed to think of Tony.

What else they could be to one another, as had revealed itself in so many lifetimes since.

He thinks of the timeline in which Tony had died much too soon. Thinks of the man barely out of his teens that had seen more and understood more, even as he'd bled out in Steve's arms. That Tony had known then, just as this Tony knows now, both of them so bright-eyed as to see into Steve's soul better even than he himself.

Tony knew first. And he already found the one for him.

Steve reels back, staring down at Tony as though he's never seen him before. For a moment, it feels as though he hasn't. His lips are red and kiss-slick and Steve feels it like a lurch in his gut. This is a Tony that has had what Steve has always wanted, even if he'd always realized it too late. This is a Tony that has a partner in Cap. This is a Tony in love.

He remembers the way Tony had talked about Pepper, remembers the easy warmth and comfort of that love. He wonders where that is now when Tony has thrown himself so willingly into Cap's arms. He knows Tony always loved Pepper. He thinks Tony always will. But this… this is something else.

"Don't be afraid, Steve." Tony's voice is soft and careful. "Don't run away from this. We both know you want it."

"Want what? You already have your lover. The man that can give you everything. What could I give you that he can't?"

Tony shakes his head. "It's not about what you can give us. It's about what we can give you. You deserve this, Steve. You deserve to have the life you want. So let us give it to you. Please."

It's the _please_ that does Steve in. Tony so rarely asks, so rarely reaches out this deeply and profoundly and desperately. For him to ask like this… he must want it. It must mean something to him. Something more than just a roll in the sack.

As though reading his mind, Tony reaches up with tentative, trembling fingers to cup Steve's cheek. "Whatever you want, Steve. Let us be that for you."

Steve chances a glance up at his counterpart who's standing across the room. His eyes are on Tony, soft at the edges with an expression Steve can't parse. It's one he's never seen on his own face. It would startle him if he didn't recognize the same expression on Tony's features as well. Love. Pure, unadulterated love pours from Cap's face, and Steve honestly can't blame him. That look alone, the knowledge that Tony is his, would be enough to send any man to his knees.

Steve doesn't fall, but he does sway into Tony's space. "You're sure."

"I'm sure."

Steve chances one last glance up at Cap before leaning down towards Tony. He goes slowly, telegraphing his motions, but Tony makes no move to leave and Cap makes no move to stop them. In fact, Cap's eyes go positively hungry, and, in the split second that Steve had looked away to confirm that, Tony's eyes had fluttered closed, his expression blissful in a way that leaves Steve breathless before he's even brushed his lips against Tony's.

The instant his lips touch Tony's, Steve knows he's done for. Tony's careful at first, cautious, but when he realizes that Steve isn't going anywhere, the response is instantaneous. He surges up against Steve, fingers threading through his hair to pull him in close as though to devour him. Steve goes willingly, moaning into Tony's mouth with the kind of unyielding want that he's dealt with quietly and unobtrusively for years. Here, now, with Tony's lips on his, the result is an avalanche of emotions, leaving him clutching desperately at Tony's hips and pulling him in close enough that they might become one person and he'd never have to live without Tony again. It's everything.

An arm insinuates itself between them, but before Steve can bark at whoever it is to back off, he recognizes the shape of the musculature between them. It's him. He pulls away from Tony just long enough to start to turn away, but his doppelgӓnger pushes him back again. "Go on. It's hot."

Steve inhales sharply. Tony leans back up against him, smiling against his lips. Steve leans into him, want curling through his chest. It's not the way he'd have expected this to happen if he'd ever let himself consider it, but it's the reality. He leans into Tony, lets him curl his tongue around Steve's own. Tony snakes his arm between Steve and his counterpart, his arm strong across Steve's back. Steve lets himself lean in against Tony, lets himself sink against himself, lets the world dissolve into nothing but this. Them. Together. It's different than what he'd thought it would be, but it's close enough to real that it's easy to sink into it and let it sweep him off his feet.

"Let us take you to bed." Tony breathes the words out against his lips.

Steve clenches his eyes shut, wishing he were strong enough to fight this. Wishing he were strong enough to let himself want this. "Tony, I—"

"Please, Steve," Tony whispers. "Let us."

Steve bows his head, letting his forehead rest against Tony's. "How can you want this? I've failed you so many times. In so many ways."

"Maybe you've failed another version of me, Steve. Maybe he even felt that you'd failed him." Steve snorts at that, knowing well enough that his Tony had meant every word he'd said to him in the compound after he'd stumbled down the steps of a spaceship. "But you haven't failed me. You've brought me everything I never thought I could have. You brought me him. You brought me you. Please. Let me give you this."

Steve keeps his eyes closed, swaying against Tony as though each breath against his lips is a maelstrom. "Give me time," he whispers. He wants so badly to believe that he's done enough this time around. That he's helped mend everything to the point that Tony may make it out of this alive. But if he's failed Tony again, how can he ever go back and try again, the way Tony deserves, if he's taken the man to bed? "Let me… let me think about this. Give me time."

Tony sighs. He tilts his head back far enough to brush his lips against Steve's one more time. "Okay. Take all the time you need."

Steve nods, eyes still clenched shut against whatever look is on Tony's face. His doppelgӓnger disentangles himself from them and Tony pulls away as well, leaving Steve chilled in ways he hasn't felt in years. Maybe not since the first time he lost Tony to death's embrace. He's not ready to take what they're offering him, but maybe one day he'll be able to have it.

Steve goes to bed that night alone and lonely, even as he knows that there's a man six floors above him who would have taken him to bed if he'd agreed. It leaves his skin cold and clammy, and he doesn't want to give into the sensation of desperate loss that he feels at realizing that he'd walked away from what might have been his only chance at having Tony in his arms.

The next morning, Tony's eyes track Steve through the kitchen all through breakfast. Steve can tell that the others notice but he doesn't give into Tony's watching. He knows it's an attempt to get Steve to renege on his promise to himself to see Tony through to the long life that he deserves to live before going to bed with him. Steve can hardly find it in himself to remember that promise when Tony's tracking with that kind of desire.

It'll fade, though. It always does.

* * *

It's been six weeks and the looks haven't faded. In fact, if Steve was as trusting as he'd been back at the beginning of his friendship with Tony, he might have believed it really was an accident every time he caught Tony and Cap _in flagrante_. If the way Cap never went red at being caught out was any indication, Tony had even told Cap that it was his plan. Steve knows he's never been able to lie with his Irish skin.

In the end, it's Cap that Steve goes to to find out what the deal is.

"Tony I get," Steve says, startling the man in the midst of what might be his fifteenth round with the same punching bag. Not that Steve had been lingering to avoid actually asking the question. He'd been checking Cap's form, that was all. "He's always been down for the new and bizarre in bed. But you can't tell me _you_ actually want this."

Cap stays still, not turning to face Steve. "What makes you say that?"

"You've always been a one-partner kinda fella." The Brooklyn seeps into his voice as the aggression amps itself up in his chest. "And Tony… if he means half as much to you as he does to me, I can't imagine you'd want to share."

Cap sighs, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against the bag. "And if you love Tony half as much as I do, you'd know I can't say no to him."

Steve stops short, his mind filling in the missing pieces. The idea that Tony had asked first, had maybe even brought it up at the beginning of their relationship, is so strange, foreign against his breastbone, that Steve can't even put the thought into words. "He asked?"

Cap laughs. There's only a trace of humor in the sound. "Of course he asked. He loves you just as much as he loves me because he understands better than I do that you are me. Tony doesn't love by halves. You should know that."

Steve stares at the man's back, at the life that could have been his if he'd just been brave enough to reach out and grab it. "I do."

Cap nods, his hair shifting over the back of his neck. "I'd understand if you didn't want me there. If that was what was making it too much. I just… I couldn't offer that in front of him. I know how he'd hear it, and I don't ever want to let him think he isn't enough."

"He is," Steve says. "More than enough."

"But not enough for you to give him what he wants."

"If you knew what I knew—"

"What, that he's dead in your timeline?" Steve breathes in sharply. Cap just gives that same humorless laugh. "Yeah, he figured that out pretty quick, what with the way you always dance around him and look at him like he might shatter if you hold onto him too hard. He knows, Steve. He knows why you're here. And he still wants you."

"He's just being the same reckless idiot he always was if he thinks being with me will make things better."

"Or does he see how hurt you are and just want to give you a piece of what we've found?"

Steve closes his eyes, heart clambering into his throat. "He ever tell you why he and Pepper split that last time?"

That, of all things, is what makes Cap turn and look at him. "Come again?"

"Pepper. He ever say why the two of them split?"

"That he was married to the job. Wasn't listening when she told him to hang up the suit for good."

Steve nods. "And that he didn't love her as much as he loved you."

Cap's eyes widen at that. "What?"

Steve smiles, something small and broken as he remembers what she told him in that last lifetime. "She said he loved you more than he'd ever loved her, and that that was part of what drove them apart."

Steve can feel Cap's eyes on him as he contemplates this. He's not sure what he finds, only that he says, voice low and telling, "But they didn't stay apart."

Steve knows he shouldn't be surprised at his doppelgӓnger's insight, but it still sends his chest reeling with shock. "No. No they didn't. Because I fucked up big enough that there really was nothing left for Tony to do but go to her." Steve looks up at his counterpart. "Don't make my mistakes."

Cap stands up a little taller at that, nodding once, sharply. "I won't."

Steve nods back. "Good. That's good."

Then he turns on his heel and slips out of the gym, back to the guest quarters.

* * *

Tony finds him in his rooms within an hour. Steve doesn't think he should be surprised that Tony overrides his codes to break into his room in the guest quarters. He doesn't even look up from his sketches when Tony comes to a stop in front of him. "Tony." That single word is the extent of the acknowledgement that Steve will give him. He sees Tony's fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"You had no right."

That makes Steve look up at him. "What?"

"Telling him about Pepper. You had no right."

Steve winces. "No. I suppose I didn't. I'm sorry, Tony."

Tony nods. "Good. It's not that I didn't want him to know, it's that that wasn't your secret to tell."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Well. As long as you know."

"I do." Steve reaches up, brushing his bangs aside. He needs a haircut. "I wasn't thinking. I just wanted him to understand how important he is to you."

"I do just fine showing him that myself."

"But not enough showing him that he's the person you're always going to want at your side. Not enough to commit to him and him alone. You're still reaching out for me even though you know—"

"Know what, Steve? That you're not my Steve? That I'm not your Tony? You think I don't know that? You think I don't know how fucked up all this is? What, did you think I just wanted it because I thought it would be hot?"

Steve blinks. He hadn't thought that in so many words, but maybe… maybe some part of him had thought as much. That this was nothing more than a fetish, Tony's attempt to get two Steves in the same bed with him. "Isn't it?" he says, before he can stop himself.

Tony's face goes red. "Fuck you, Rogers, if you think I think that little of you."

Steve shakes his head. "I didn't mean it like that, Tony. I just… you can't tell me that isn't part of it."

Tony hesitates, eyes darting between both of Steve's. He looks away. "A little. I guess." He shakes his head. "But not all of it, Steve. You deserve this. How long would it have taken us to get together without you? Who knows if we ever even _would_ have gotten together. God knows you never got together with your Tony." Steve looks away, but not fast enough to miss Tony's wince. "Sorry. That came out wrong."

Steve shrugs. "It's fine. It's not like you're wrong."

"Still. I could have had more tact."

Steve can't help it. He snorts. "Tact? You?"

Tony looks over at him, his expression exasperated and fond. "Yeah, well. We can't all bumble as charmingly as you do."

Steve laughs. "You got me there." As the laughter fades, he catches the wistful expression on Tony's face. "You really want this."

"I really want this."

"And not just for the hotness factor."

Tony's smile is small and a little uncertain, but it's there. "Yeah. Not just for the hotness factor."

Steve searches Tony's eyes, looking for any lie there. Finding none, he bows his head in consent. "Okay."

He hears Tony's breath catch, small enough that he thinks he wasn't meant to hear. "Really?"

Steve looks up, finding the reverence in Tony's voice mirrored on his face. He feels his own features soften in return. "Really."

Tony grins, leaning in to kiss Steve soundly. "Am I bringing Cap to this party?"

Steve blinks. "Wasn't that always the plan?"

Tony's face goes soft. "Only if you want him there, Steve. He gets it. He knows how much you mean to me. Knows I love you both the same because you are the same. Made of the same stuff, at least; he can't deny that. If I was always going to love him, then I was always going to love you too. There's just no way around that. So. Cap? Or just you and me?"

Steve almost asks. Almost takes more than his due. Almost takes everything Tony's offering and then some. But he doesn't. "Bring him in."

Tony's grin could light the whole compound. "Meet us in my room?"

Steve nods helplessly, letting Tony tug him to his feet before he takes off at a run. Steve wishes he could muster the same excitement for all this, as though it meant more to him than giving Tony everything he'd ever asked for. He'd always doted on Tony, and things had gotten worse in that terrible, beautiful lifetime where he'd played godfather to the beautiful boy Tony had been. Somehow, this feels like it's just the same as before, but tangled up in all the feelings Steve has for the adult version of Tony. He fights down memories of a smaller Tony in his arms, on his shoulders, and forces himself to focus on the Tony here and now.

He makes his way into Tony's quarters, hovering uncertainly in the doorway until Tony and Cap come stumbling in, laughing and locked at the lips. Steve's heart jerks in his chest, feeling like a visitor again in their relationship; an outsider looking in. Then Tony turns to him, eyes wide and warm, smile brilliant, and Steve melts. Tony reaches out to him, pulling him in close, and then Steve's leaning in and kissing Tony until they're both breathless with it. He doesn't pull away until Cap starts trying to force Tony's shirt off over his head. They're all laughing, somehow put totally at ease by the way Tony moves so fluidly between them, trading kisses between them both. Steve relaxes against him, against the pair of them, and soon enough there's nothing but the heat between them and the easy slide of Tony's lips.

Cap's the one that gets things moving. He nudges them toward the bed, eventually toppling Tony onto the bed atop Steve. Steve grunts at the weight before his arms come up around Tony naturally. He frowns up at Cap, who's just smirking back down at him. He crawls atop the pair of them, whispering something in Tony's ear. Steve's too slow and distracted to listen in, and by the time he even registers what's happening, Tony's eyes are lighting up and he's moving down Steve's body, undoing his jeans and pulling them down past his ass, just far enough that, with some maneuvering, he can pull Steve's cock free. Steve's heart leaps into his throat, want pooling in his gut as he hardens altogether too quickly. Tony grins deviously up at him before leaning in and licking him from root to tip.

Steve throws his head back, back arching as he fights the urge to fuck up toward Tony's mouth. Tony hums against him and Steve has to bite his lip to keep from giving in completely. Tony goes on licking, sucking, kissing his shaft until Steve thinks he might just give in and grab him by the hair so he can fuck up into his mouth.

"You can, you know." Steve startles at his voice in his ear. It's Cap, that's the only possibility with Tony's mouth still warm and welcoming around his cock. But there's a husky sort of want and desperation in his tone that sets Steve's head spinning. "You can fuck his mouth."

Tony moans around him and Steve looks down, taken aback by the easy want in Tony's tone.

"Learned that myself along the way. How much he loves getting his face fucked. Go on. Get your hands in his hair. Fuck him up real good."

Tony moans again and Steve's hands come up automatically. He bites his lip, heart in his throat as he fucks his hips up tentatively into Tony's mouth. Tony moans again, louder and stronger than before and then Steve's off, fucking up into Tony's throat again and again and again. Tony just moans around him, tongue working Steve's shaft as he goes, throat fluttering around the head of Steve's cock as Steve fucks his face.

"Fuck, he's so gorgeous. Both of you. Look at the way you take him apart. God, he's so greedy for it."

Tony moans again and Steve has to yank Tony off of him to keep from coming down his throat. Tony tugs against his hold. "Steve." His voice is wrecked and Steve has to grit his teeth not to come right then. "Steve, please."

"Tony—"

Cap cuts Steve off, crawling across the bed to fist his hand in Tony's hair beside Steve's. When he pulls Tony into a rough, searching kiss, Steve can't help but watch. Can't help but want. Tony pulls away from Cap, lips spit-slick and swollen. He stares at Cap for a long, dazed moment before his eyes go sharp with knowing and he looks down to meet Steve's eyes. "Yeah?"

Steve's throat is too tight for him to speak. He sits up just high enough to brush his lips over Tony's. Tony moans again and melts against him, lips parting on a sigh. Steve closes his eyes, reveling in the touch. It's different from that kiss he refuses to remember, Tony's lips so young against his. This man is nothing like that boy. This man knows how to kiss, knows what it is to live a full life, and, perhaps most noticeably, has a goatee. Steve chokes on a laugh, heart thumping against his breastbone.

"What is it?" Tony asks.

Steve shakes his head, leaning back in to kiss Tony again. "Just thinking about how I might have gotten here a different way. How I almost got to have all of you, but I was never enough."

"You are, Steve. You're always enough." Tony glances over his shoulder at Cap. "Always have been."

Steve closes his eyes, running his fingers through Tony's hair and trying not to let the darkness flow over his head again. Then, against his better judgment, he pulls away. He gets to his feet and zips up his pants, letting himself take in the startled expression on Tony's face. "No. I'm not. I'm not enough, Tony." Steve leans in once more, brushing his lips against Tony's. "I never was."

"Steve—"

"Thank you for offering me this, Tony." He nods at Cap. "Both of you. I know it can't have been easy. But I can't accept this. You two have something wonderful here. Something so much more than I could possibly have expected or hoped for. And I don't get to intrude on that. Not with my sins."

"You aren't your mistakes, Steve. If I'm more than my mistakes—"

"And you are, Tony. God knows you are. But this isn't that. This is me knowing what my betrayal cost my Tony. Knowing that, whatever good grace you might want to bestow upon me, I don't deserve it. So thank you for the offer, gentlemen. But if you'll excuse me, I need to take my leave."

Steve inclines his head at the pair of them, eyes catching on the firm grip Cap has on Tony's upper arm to hold him in place. He feels a bitter smile twist his lips. He lifts his head, steps through the half-open door, out of their bedroom, and out of their relationship. Because God knows it isn't his place.

* * *

The intervening years could have been all kinds of awkward if Tony hadn't sat Steve down and tried to understand. Steve told him exactly as much as he could, exactly as much as he needed to know, no more, no less. Told him about secrets that he had kept and lies that he had told. The distance he had let build between them. And when his throat goes dry and he can't talk anymore, he looks up and meets Tony's eyes head-on. "I can't take what you're offering, Tony. Not when I don't deserve it."

"I'm not offering, Steve. I'm asking."

Steve shrugs. "I can't give you what you want."

"One night, Steve. One night to prove how serious I am. How serious we are. That's all I'm asking."

"We tried that, Tony. You saw where it got us."

"Because I didn't understand. Because I didn't know what you'd been through."

"And you still don't. You still don't know what I see when I look at you. If you knew—" Steve cuts himself off and looks away. "If you knew, you wouldn't be asking me this."

"Then tell me."

Steve closes his eyes, steeling himself, his whole body aching with loss. "I lost you, Tony. I lost you, and I thought I was never going to get you back. I've lost everything too many times, and the thought of having this… having _you_ , knowing there's a chance I could lose you again… it's too much. I can't, Tony. Please don't ask me to."

Tony's quiet. Steve can feel his eyes boring holes in the side of his head, but he waits a few long moments before he speaks. "And if I can prove to you that you won't lose me again?"

Steve closes his eyes. Grits his teeth. Tries not to let the hope show. "Then we can talk. But prove it to me first." He looks up to meet Tony's eyes, putting all his conviction into his next words. "Survive taking down Thanos, and I'm all yours."

Tony nods. "Count on it."

* * *

The months pass in a haze of training, fighting evil, and watching Cap and Tony fall more and more in love. It hurts, yes, but in the dull way that an old bruise hurts when you press on it. It's there, under the skin, but never enough to overtake him and leave him a slave to his pain. It's the bittersweet pressure the bruise leaves behind; knowing that it had hurt once, but that you were healing too. Or, in this case, that one version of his soul had gotten the happiness he'd sought. He waits. He watches. And when the time comes to battle Thanos, Steve sees it coming a mile off.

Thor, still too ragged at the edges, doesn't go for the head. Cap, angry and bitter and brittle, fights to keep the Gauntlet from doing its worst. And when Cap manages to tear the Gauntlet from his grip and toss it aside only to be tossed aside himself, Steve knows what's coming.

He's too slow. Too slow to make it to Tony before Tony makes it to the gauntlet. Too slow to stop what's coming.

The worst part. The _worst part_ is that Steve knows he gave Tony the idea. He's the one who told Tony he saved the universe. The one that told him he could wield the Infinity Stones. This, as usual, is all on him.

Steve scrambles to Tony's side, grabbing at the hand covered in burnt and mottled skin. Tony pulls one side of his mouth up in a broken smile. "Sorry, Steve. Guess— guess— guess I didn't hold up my end of the bargain."

"Fuck you, Tony, you know— you know this isn't about that."

Tony's smile softens. "Hmm. Maybe not."

Steve hears Cap drop to his knees beside him. He releases Tony's hands and pulls away from the lovers. It isn't his place to get involved. Not when he's the reason they've been torn apart.

He does linger, though. He hovers at the edges, leans into the want in his chest. The way he wishes he could have been more for them than he is for himself. The way he wants to pull Tony's soul back into his body and let him live. Let him thrive. He wants so badly to undo what has been done here even though he knows two Stones can never match the power of five.

With that thought, he resists the urge to go for this reality's Stones himself. He swallows down the desire to take them in hand and destroy everything all over again, and reaches instead for his own. He pulls them from their pocket dimension, closes his eyes, and snaps.


	7. Chapter 7

Steve goes back further. Ultron, this time; the first time he'd had an inkling of the fissure that would destroy his friendship with Tony. He likes to think that part of him had known even then that this had the power to break them. He didn't, of course, but it's nice to pretend. If he has known, he'd have done things differently.

The Stones fight him, though, as he moves through time. They give him less leeway than they did in the past, pulling him closer and closer to the end of it all. He manages to wrest just enough control from them to land near the end of the fight at the Tower. Tony's staring up at the room with shock on his face, as though he'd never expected it to come to this. Or as though he had.

Steve doesn't make himself known at first. He lets the team go off to try to find Wanda and her brother. He lets the Cradle come back. He's missed his shot at saving JARVIS; the least he can do is let Vision come into being. So he waits and he watches and he lets everything fall into place.

And when the team makes their way to Sokovia, Steve stows away on the quinjet, ready to do whatever it takes to get the team out of this. To get _Tony_ out of this.

He sticks as close to the twins as he can without being noticed, though he's pretty sure Pietro has his number. That breeze on the back of his neck can't have been his imagination. Steve sticks close to them, and when everything starts to go to shit, he sticks closer to Pietro than he does to Wanda. If there's any chance he can save her brother, he damn well owes it to her.

They duck and dart and bob and weave their way through the civilians, doing whatever they can to keep everyone safe. At this point, Steve is sure that Pietro knows he's there, if the way he keeps doubling back is any indication. Steve barely listens to what he can hear through the comm he'd snagged before he'd left his last timeline, too busy trying to keep himself and Pietro safe. There's no higher mission than that right now, save that of keeping Tony alive.

It isn't until there's a break in the fight that Pietro finally faces him. "You going to tell me why you're following me like I can't take care of myself?"

Steve blinks. "Sure. It's because in the timeline I'm from, you're dead."

Pietro's eyes go wide. "Come again?"

"Died about fifteen minutes from now saving a civilian."

Pietro stares at him. "What are you, some kind of time traveler?"

"Got it in one." Steve sends his shield ricocheting off three different bodies of Ultron's and Pietro disappears for a fraction of a second, presumably to do the same.

When he reappears in front of Steve, he's got his head tilted to the side. "Huh. Guess I can't throw stones, really."

Steve grins. It's not that he'd never wondered why Wanda was so serious all the time, it was that he'd never really had a chance to talk to Pietro and understand the depth of his humor. "You certainly can't throw these. Come on," he says, turning toward where he knows the ships will be coming to retrieve them. "I know a shortcut."

* * *

Somehow he manages to save Pietro. Maybe it's the shield he puts through the copy's neck, or the fact that he'd warned the boy that this was coming. Maybe it's just dumb luck. Whatever it is, he manages to get Pietro onto the helicarrier before the city drops. Gets himself there too.

What he doesn't get is Tony out of this alive.

He's got his comms in, so he hears it when Tony mutters "One got away," before the repulsors whine into high gear over the system. Steve's heart leaps into his throat, and something in him wants desperately to dive off the side of the helicarrier and get to Tony. Whatever it takes to keep him from doing what Steve knows he's about to do.

He takes a risk. "Don't do it, Tony."

There's a resounding silence down the comm line, and Steve knows he's fucked up before anything else happens. His only saving grace is that Tony recovers his wits first. "Got to, Cap," he says. "Vision's the only other one that could take him down, and he's dropped off the grid."

What? That can't be right. Steve closes his eyes. "Doesn't matter, Tony. We can figure it out."

"If he gets to anyone else's tech, we're back to where we started. I thought you of all people would understand that we can't have that, Cap."

"Tony—"

"I'm doing this, Cap. You can back me up or you can argue with me, but I'm not changing my mind. This is my mess," he says, a little softer. "I have to clean it up."

"Tony—"

Steve hears the definitive _click_ that means Tony's shut off his comms. Steve's heart climbs into his throat and for a moment, he's ready to give into the urge to dive off the side of the helicarrier. It's Clint that holds him back

When Steve turns to him, eyes wide and blazing with confusion, Clint socks him. Steve stumbles, more from surprise than from pain. "Clint—"

"The hell are you doing, Cap?" Clint asks, voice low and dangerous. "You're the one that told Tony we had to do this. That he was wrong for making unilateral decisions for the team. You know as well as I do that this is on him. So what are you playing at, trying to let him let the damn thing get away?"

Steve shakes his head. "You have no idea what's coming, Clint. For you. For your family. If we lose Tony—"

"Tony's a genius, Cap. We can trust him."

"To make the sacrifice play, sure. Not to keep himself safe. If we lose him, we're losing a hell of a lot more than this fight."

Clint frowns at him like he's not sure if he should be following Steve's lead or smacking some sense into him. Frankly, Steve doesn't have time for Clint to decide. He turns on his heel and steps to the edge of the boat, trying to track Tony through all the debris that's flying through the air. It's a hell of a lot harder to track him than it should be, harder to find him than it should be, and Steve isn't sure if that's Tony being sneaky or his own desperation making him sloppy. Still, he keeps his eyes trained through the wreckage and the chaos to try to find even a tiny speck of red and gold that might be Tony flying to his death. When he finally does, he knows he's too late. Tony's bobbing and weaving through the debris with purpose, not like he's trying to keep himself alive. Steve's too far away, too high up to do anything but watch as Tony takes off across the open field that's all that's left of Sokovia, repulsors in high gear as he flies. Steve knows what's coming. He just doesn't know what he's done that made it all end up like this.

The second the helicarrier lands, Steve takes off in the direction Tony had been flying in. He's not sure if he'll make it there in time, if he'll be able to do anything more than watch, but he won't be able to live with himself if he doesn't at least do that much. Clint doesn't bother trying to stop him, doesn't bother trying to hold him back. He seems to know that this is what Steve's going to do regardless of any intervention, even if he doesn't seem to understand why. So Steve takes off toward the edge of what had once been the city and has just enough time to watch Tony fire his repulsors into what must be the final, mangled, mottled Ultron copy.

"Tony!"

Tony turns toward him, faceplate still firmly in place. Still, Steve thinks he can tell what kind of expression Tony's wearing. "You're not my Steve, are you?"

"Tony—"

Tony shakes his head. "Gotta get rid of him, Cap. No other choice."

Steve blinks, his mind making the connection before he's even conscious of the issue. H3e inhales sharply. "Ultron—"

"Jumped ship to my suit. Yeah. I've got about thirty seconds to get this thing up in the air to keep you out of the blast radius."

"Can't you—"

"Deactivate him? Not without JARVIS or Vision." Tony snaps the faceplate up, his eyes desperate for an absolution that Steve already knows he's going to give Tony. "You gotta let me do this, Cap. You gotta let me make this right."

Steve nods, heart in his throat as he tries not to succumb to the desire to beg Tony to stay. "Couldn't stop you even if you wanted me to, could I?"

Tony's eyes flash. "If you really think that, you don't know a damn thing about me."

Steve swallows. "I know. Easier to pretend like that, though."

Tony doesn't say anything. Just nods once more and whispers, "See ya 'round, Cap," before the faceplate snaps back into place and he's taking to the sky. Steve can only watch in desperation as Tony flies, higher, higher, until there's nothing left of him but a speck, and then, a massive explosion. Steve knows Tony knows best, wants to believe that Tony destroyed Ultron down to the last tiny particle, but something in him knows that it doesn't matter even if he did. They're all going to succumb to Thanos in a few short years regardless of what Steve does. This is just one more nail in the coffin of their fate.

He hears Clint's arrow notch against his bow somewhere behind him. He lifts his hands in surrender, turning slowly to face him. "Problem, Clint?" Then he sees who's standing next to the archer. His other self, shield held at the ready as he prepares to let loose on what he must think is a shapeshifter, or even another Ultron copy.

"You're damn right there's a problem," Cap growls. "What the hell are you?"

"I'm you. From a much worse future than you can possibly imagine right now."

Cap's eyes go wide, as though that was the last thing he'd expected Steve to say. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that the man that could have saved you all from the future I've come from just rocketed himself into the stratosphere to save your sorry asses. You think there's something out there you deserve? Something worthwhile that you can have if you let him carry all your weight? You don't know a damn thing."

Clint lowers his bow. "Stark's… dead?"

Steve nods. "Only way to get rid of Ultron, at least as far as he was concerned." He looks over their shoulders at Thor and Pietro, noticing all at once that they're missing someone. "Where's Wanda?"

Pietro flinches, and Cap stands up a little taller. "Dead. We think one of the robots got to her."

"To Wanda?" Steve stops himself before he can say _That's impossible_. "Huh. Well that's a problem."

"Problem how, exactly?"

Steve shakes his head. "Look, when you find Vision, take him to Shuri, T'Chaka's daughter. She'll be able to get the Mind Stone out of his head, and then you'll just need to find a way to destroy it without Wanda if you're going to keep this planet safe."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Steve resists the urge to roll his eyes at his younger self. "It means you've got a war coming in a few years, and destroying that Stone is the only way to keep this planet and the rest of the universe safe."

All three of them stare at him in varying degrees of confusion. Steve doesn't really care, though. He's failed in his mission yet again, and it's long past time for him to get back to business.

"Now, if you'll excuse me."

Clint manages to notch his arrow at that, but Cap doesn't even get the shield off his back before Steve's using the Stones to pull himself through time and reality to try this again.

* * *

Saving Pietro hadn't changed a damn thing. Maybe this time Steve needs to stick closer to Tony.

He makes it a little further back this time, though not far enough to stop Ultron from being born at all. Steve frowns down at his wrist, trying to understand why the Stones aren't cooperating as well any more. They resist the pull of his mind, holding him at bay as they slip back into their pocket dimension. He shakes his wrist, trying to snap them back into existence, but they resist him, standing firm in a way that he's never seen before. It doesn't matter, though. All they need to do is get him close to the point he needs. He can deal with the rest once he's where he needs to be.

So clearly, saving Pietro hadn't been the right call. As terrible as it feels to think it, the twins may not have any role to play in this at all. He just needs to keep Tony safe; that's his mission at the end of the day. As long as he can do that, everything else will be fine. It will be.

Vision is the one that notices him this time. Catches sight of him in the glass, perhaps, and turns toward him.

"I believe we have a visitor."

Steve doesn't bother hiding. He's tried that enough times after being found out to know that it never gets him anywhere. Instead he strolls into the common area, arms crossed in an attempt to look like he belongs. His younger self turns to look at him, eyes wide and staring. The twins look confused, while Thor merely looks intrigued, and Tony looks positively gleeful. "Clone, shapeshifter, or just a really good disguise?"

Steve laughs against his better judgment. "None of the above."

Cap glares at him, stepping between him and the team as though to defend them. "What are you?"

Steve uncrosses his arms, suddenly feeling much more at ease. He puts his hands in his pockets. "Don't you have something more pressing to worry about?"

The team turns as one to Vision. Steve lets them carry on in their discussion, wandering over toward Mjolnir as they do. He stares down at the weapon, wondering if it will acknowledge him as worthy any more. He certainly doesn't feel worthy. He ghosts his fingers over the handle, heart climbing into his throat. He can't tell just by touching the hammer, but he knows that he has no place lifting it any longer. He's been selfish, focused on his own needs and desires before the good of the universe, and the hammer knows that better than most. He closes his eyes, reveling in the closeness of the weapon for a moment longer before stepping aside and letting Vision make his point.

He's always been the most worthy of all of them. No reason to let that go now.

* * *

Steve spends the flight to Sokovia tucked away in the back of the quinjet, trying not to feel the team's eyes on him. He knows they're watching him with all the intensity they can, trying to figure out his game, but he has no reason to let them in on his secret. Not until he knows he can keep Tony safe, that is. Once he's done that, he'll do whatever they ask him to. He has one purpose here and one alone — to keep Tony safe and alive so that Steve has time to figure out how to keep him that way. Steve listens to their planning just enough to know what's the same and what's different, and what he needs to do to keep Tony on the right side of life.

The battle is easy enough, at least when compared to the kind of fights Steve's faced since his first time in Sokovia. He sticks as close to Tony as he can, right up until he flies off the side of the city to get to the vibranium core.

"Shit."

Steve has to physically hold himself back from jumping after Tony. There's a weight in his chest, a reminder that this is how Tony saves them all, and yet how it might be too late for him to save any of them, too late for Steve to save him in turn. He closes his eyes and forces himself to turn away from the edge and make his way back toward the center of town. He gathers up civilians, carrying, dragging, and coaxing them to the helicarrier and the safety that it holds. All the while, he has half an ear on the comms, waiting for Tony to make the call to destroy the city. They get the civilians out safely, they get the helicarrier out of the way and Steve can only watch as Tony does what he's done every time Steve's been in this position. He saves the whole goddamn world.

And then, as the debris starts falling, Steve knows what's about to happen before it even does. "Tony—"

"Cap—" Tony starts, and then there's the sound of something colliding with the suit. Steve flinches, knowing better than he wishes he did exactly what that sound is. He's treated to the sound of Tony sucking in a sharp gasp of air and something shattering, the wispy sound of something free falling through the air, followed by a rush of water and then… nothing.

Steve closes his eyes. He knows what this is. He knows what's happened. The only thing he doesn't know is if he's the reason everything turned out this way this time around. If maybe everything would have been just fine if he'd—

No. He's deep enough in this that he needs to see it through to the end. He needs to see Tony through to the life he deserves to live, and if this is the only way to do it — watching Tony die a thousand different ways — then he'll do it. He'll do whatever it takes to give Tony the life he deserves.

Whatever it takes.

Steve refuses to leave until they drag Tony's body out of the water. Buried under several tons of rubble as it is, that takes the better part of three days, but he stands guard and helps out in whatever way he can. He's not going to see Tony's body left to languish underwater if he can help it. This is his responsibility just as much as anyone else's, and he won't leave Tony down there alone.

He knows what it is to drown alone underwater. He's not going to leave Tony's body there any longer than it has to be.

When they finally bring Tony's body up, waterlogged and puffy, Steve has to excuse himself to vomit. It's not that he's never seen bodies in this state before so much as that he's never seen _Tony's_ body in that state before. He's seen Tony dead and dying, burnt and broken, but there's something about that bloated look of the drowned that gets under Steve's skin worse than anything else that Tony has been victim to. God. It's like being dragged up from the ocean himself all over again. This isn't at all what he'd wanted for Tony, and the thought that he might have _caused it_ is just utterly beyond belief. He can't stay here much longer, can't submit himself to this kind of torture, but someone— someone has to see him home to the States, and Steve isn't about to leave that task to anyone else. He knows how much Tony means to him, knows what it is to hold Tony in his arms, knows what it is to feel the world come crashing down around his ears, because Tony's dead dead dead, and he won't be able to live with himself if he doesn't go along to the States with Tony's body.

He doesn't stay for the funeral, though. He sees the way Pepper looks at him, the way she seems to understand everything that he's failed to do up until this point. She seems to understand, and somehow that hurts worse than if she hadn't understood. If she had simply stood by and accepted his apologies with all the good grace of the abandoned lover that she is. He knows she'd wanted Tony to stop flying, knows she'd wanted him to abandon the suits, but this is worse than all that. This is Tony's life cut short and shredded to pieces in front of her eyes at a point when she couldn't have done a damned thing about it. She was everything to Tony — _everything_ — and if there's no way to undo all that, then there's no reason for Steve to stay behind.

He slips out in the early hours of the morning the day of the funeral and looks out over the city that Tony has given everything to save more than once. He stares out at the Manhattan skyline and, against his better judgment, lingers.

Pepper finds him before he has a chance to activate the Stones. "You're leaving, then."

Steve closes his eyes. "Yes."

She nods as though that had been the obvious and only answer. "Of course you are."

They stand in silence in front of the wide open windows. Steve desperately wants to say something, wants so badly to make her understand why he's doing what he's doing, why he's taken this path. She doesn't seem to need it.

"He loved you too, you know. Maybe not as deeply and maybe not the same way, but… he loved you too."

"I know."

That seems to startle Pepper. "Did your Tony—"

"No." He cuts her off. "No, we were never… like that. He only ever let himself have eyes for you."

"You know that's not true."

Steve lifts one shoulder in a shrug, forcing his eyes open again. "I only know what I lived, Pepper. And what I lived was… it was too much."

Pepper doesn't seem to have an answer for him. She steps into his space, though, coming to stand nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with him in the pre-dawn light. "You're sure you need to leave?"

"I have to."

"You don't have to do anything."

"I do if I want to be able to live with myself. Pepper—" He shakes his head. "My Tony… he died because I was too stubborn to see what he saw. Too self-righteous and blinded by our enemies to be willing to bridge that divide when the world needed us the most."

"That's a two-way street, Cap. Tony could have reached out too."

"Maybe. Or maybe I'd broken that bond too deeply for it to ever be healed. Whatever the whole truth may be, I know that at least part of the reason Tony's dead is because I wasn't there to stand at his side. I can't let that happen. Never again." He turns to look at Pepper, heart clenching in his chest. "You, though… you stood by him no matter what. You were the person I never could be for him. You deserve to know the truth.

"My Tony died saving the whole universe. He gave his life for everyone else's. He did something that I wasn't strong enough to do; something that I haven't, in all these lifetimes I've lived, been strong enough to do. He saved the universe, Pepper. He went down fighting. I need you to know that."

"Oh, Steve." Pepper shakes her head. "I knew that from the second I saw him in that armor. I knew he was going to go down fighting or not at all. I just hope he got to live a full life before he died."

"He did. Not full enough; he deserved so much more, but… but yes. You two had a family. A daughter. He loved you both so much. It wasn't what I wanted for him. He deserved to see your daughter grow up, but it was more than I think even he wanted to wish he could have."

"Good." Steve looks over at Pepper and can just make out the tears in her eyes. "That's good."

Steve indulges in wrapping an arm around Pepper's shoulders. She melts into him, easy as anything, and Steve lets himself revel in this moment. This moment of holding onto one of the few people that loves Tony more than he does and existing in their grief together. He only lets himself have a few moments, but he holds them close to his chest, knowing that there's no way he's ever going to forget this.

He presses a kiss to Pepper's temple, and she leans in against him, her body lax in his arms. "Thank you," he whispers.

She nods and lets him pull away. He meets her eyes once more, and then makes his way down to ground level. It's time to make this right one more time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who accidentally left off about 1700 words of last week's chapter! ME!! So y'all get two updates this week. I just have to decide if they're both going up today or one today and one tomorrow. Either way, enjoy the tears!

The Stones let him go back earlier this time around. He isn't sure if it's intentional on their part or some sort of issue with the way he's wielding them, but frankly, he doesn't care. If this is what he gets to have in order to keep Tony alive, he'll do whatever it takes.

It's not much earlier, though. Steve can see the edges of Ultron's existence creeping over Manhattan, can feel the way the air is almost oppressive in the way it tries to reach down his throat and choke him. He holds onto whatever he can, and makes his way up to Bruce and Tony's lab, hoping that this time he's not too late.

The Cradle is already there, and Steve can hear the way Bruce and Tony are arguing over the device, trying to find a way to make the world bend to their whims. To Tony's whims.

For a split second Steve feels his world tilt on its axis. He feels young and foolish and angry, wanting so badly to convince Tony that this is a terrible idea. That the Mind Stone is so much more than he can understand right now, so much more than they can wield alone. There's no way Tony can do this the way that he wants to, and, for a split second, Steve wants more than anything to save JARVIS from being incorporated into Vision. Not that Vision isn't wonderful in and of himself, but he isn't _JARVIS_. Steve knows now something of what the human Jarvis was to Tony in his youth. To lose even this beautiful, insufficient imitation of him is going to hurt more than Steve thinks Tony has ever let on, and if Steve can stop that—

"Tony!"

Tony turns to look at him as the word spills over Steve's lips against his better judgment. "Steve? What are you doing here?" he asks. Then he wrinkles his nose. "And what are you wearing?"

Before Steve can get a word in edgewise, Wanda and Pietro are bursting onto the scene, and then there's arguing and yelling and Steve can hardly see through his own fury and need to keep Tony safe. He sees it when Pietro goes for the cables connecting the Cradle to Tony's mainframe, but he's too slow to get an elbow up in the kid's face and slow him down. Then there's power and energy and so damn much more than Steve remembers from the first time around. And then he sees it. He sees the shield in his counterpart's hand, sees the way he cocks his arm back to throw, sees the moment Tony is too distracted to respond. Steve's chest seizes up, his heart going still, and all he can do is scream out Tony's name before his doppelgӓnger is letting loose with the shield.

The fight rages on around them, Thor arriving and putting a bolt of lightning through and into the Cradle, and Steve couldn't give less of a damn. Tony's on the ground, bleeding sluggishly from where the shield seems to have cracked a few of his ribs. There's no way this isn't going to hurt like a bitch, watching Tony go like this after too many times trying to save him every way Steve knows how.

Cap makes his way over to them a split second later, crouching down in front of Tony. "Is he—"

Steve snags the shield and slams it into his counterpart's chest. "Go take care of Vision. There's nothing you can do for him now."

Cap looks up at him, clearly ready to argue, only to go sheet-white when he realized who he's talking to. "You—"

"Are you. From a parallel timeline. The future. Whatever. Get over it and get out there while I see if I can undo this damn mess."

Cap makes a strangled sound, lurching forward, but Steve just hits him in the chest with the shield again.

"Go."

Cap blinks once, nods, then does as he's told, getting to his feet and crossing the room to where Steve knows Vision is waiting. It hurts like a motherfucker to know that Tony isn't going to get to see the result of his time, dedication, and work, but Steve doesn't have time to think about any of that. All he can do is lean into what Tony has left and try to drag him back from the brink.

He tests Tony's ribs, wincing at the certainty that they are cracked, and tries not to gag in sympathy when Tony chokes on his own breath from pain. "Easy, Tony. Easy." Tony shoves at him weakly, trying to get away, but Steve is having none of that. "Not your Cap, Tony. Not your guy. Trust me, I just want to help."

Tony gives a garbled half-answer that Steve can't parse or identify, and he doesn't really have time to try. He nudges Tony back a little bit, propping him up against the wall to see just how bad the damage is, but there's no time to do more than poke and prod vaguely at his injuries before a thought occurs to him.

"Can you get up into the Cradle?"

Tony laughs, then coughs roughly, the sound hollow and aching. "Not gonna work."

Steve opens his mouth to ask, then winces in sudden understanding. "It's calibrated to Vision, not you."

Tony gives him a strange look. "Ultron, but, yeah. Pretty much that."

Steve swears and gets to his feet. "Bruce! Get your ass over here!"

"Won't matter anyway," Tony says. Steve looks down at him and the way he's staring up at Steve as though he's a particularly frustrating line of code that he can't figure out. "Thor probably blew the circuits with whatever he just did over there."

"Tony—"

Tony shakes his head. "Don't bother. I can— I can tell this is worse than just a set of cracked ribs."

"Broken?"

"Yep. Punctured lung too, if I'm not mistaken."

"Tony—"

"It's okay, Steve. Really. Whatever it is that you're here to fix, you can fix it just fine without me."

Steve drops to his knees, searching Tony's face. "And if what I came here to fix was this?"

Tony blinks. Blinks again. Then he rolls his eyes. "I think we both know that's not true."

Steve makes a choked off sound, reaching out to grab Tony by the elbow. "Tony. Tony, look at me."

Tony rolls his eyes again. "You don't even want me on the team, Cap. You know just how reckless I am and you don't want a damn thing to do with me. So what makes you think I'd believe that you came back to save me?"

Steve doesn't even try to stop himself. He leans in, mouth sealing over Tony's as chaos reigns around them. "Because I want to see you live, you daft imbecile. Because you're important to me. Because you're my friend."

Tony stares up at him, lips parted in a way that matches the shock on his face. "What?"

"I came back to save you because I love you, Tony. I love you."

Tony blinks. Steve can't parse the expression on his face, but Tony leans forward slowly, telegraphing his motions, as he moves into Steve's space. He licks his lips. "Steve—"

Steve meets him halfway, pressing his lips to Tony's. Tony whimpers under him at the pressure and Steve lets off just enough to relieve the strain. "I know you're with Pepper. I know you don't want me that way. But I also know that you could. So please, Tony. Please. Let me save you."

Tony pulls back and laughs wetly. The laugh turns to a cough, turns to blood on Steve's shirt.

"Tony—"

"It's no good, Cap. You know that as well as I do. By the time anyone can get me in there, I'll have lost too much blood. Don't ask me to drag this out, Steve. Don't ask that of me."

Steve stares into Tony's eyes, searching for any hint of a lie. Any chance that Tony might be exaggerating his injuries. But for all that Tony can be a drama queen when all is well, he never jokes around in the field or when someone is in danger. Even when that someone is him, Tony never jokes around where safety is concerned.

Steve closes his eyes, leaning forward to plant his forehead against Tony's shoulder. Tony reaches up to cup the back of his head, and Steve can feel the gentle caress of his fingers like it's his last time in 2018 and Tony has taken everything Steve had given him and then asked for more. This is them, whole and united in a cause that neither of them wants any part of.

Steve shakes his head against Tony's shoulder. "I can't lose you again."

"You'll be okay. You'll find a way."

"Tony—"

"You'll find a way, Steve. I know you will."

Steve closes his eyes at that, leaning into Tony's touch. Tony strokes his fingers through Steve's hair, soothing and tempting and damning all at once. "And if I don't?"

Tony's face softens. "You will, Steve. You're too stubborn not to."

Steve stares down at Tony, trying to make sense of what's happening. Of the reality before him. Of what the hell has just happened. Tony meets his eyes head-on, unwavering and clear.

"You will."

Before Steve can reach out to him again, Tony's fisting his hand in Steve's sleeve, his whole body going rigid with pain. And then, just when Steve thinks he'll have to look away, his face relaxes. His eyes turn once more to Steve, lips parting in a final smile. Steve leans into it, wanting this the way he's never wanted anything before. He lets his forehead rest against Tony's heart beating wildly in his throat. "Fuck."

Steve can hear the team moving to circle him, but he pulls his Stones to him before they can get too close. "Get Vision to Wakanda when you can. That Stone… letting it exist is going to damn a lot of people. Get him to Wakanda and have Shuri help you take it out."

"And why the hell should we—"

"Because," Steve cuts his counterpart off, "if you don't, you're risking the whole universe. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Steve doesn't wait for a response. He just tugs on the power of the Stones and disappears.


	9. Chapter 9

He goes further back this time. Ultron. The rift in their lives that had been so much more than he could have known at the time. The Stones take him to that moment, to the warmth and beauty and revelry of the Tower before everything had gone to shit. He stands at the entrance to the Tower, staring up at its magnificence.

"Captain Rogers."

Steve closes his eyes at JARVIS' voice. It's been too long. "Hello, JARVIS."

Steve presses his palm to the scanner in front of him. It takes a moment longer than he remembers to admit him. Steve doesn't let the concern press against his skin. JARVIS was always more intelligent than even Tony gave him credit for. He must know. He must understand.

Steve makes his way through the foyer and over to the elevator that leads straight up to the penthouse. Another palm scan and a quick keycode is all it takes to get him moving. He detours around the common room floor and heads up to Tony and Bruce's lab instead.

It's pure luck that has him at the lab when Bruce isn't there. That, or a little twitch of the Reality Stone at Steve's wrist. Steve doesn't let himself look too hard at that.

"Tony."

Tony whips around to face him. Steve can't quite hear his heart hammering, but it's a near thing. "Steve. What are you doing here?"

Steve smiles. It feels false. "Come on. Party's starting."

"Yeah, sure. I'll be down in a minute. Just let me finish programming JARVIS to run the sims while I'm down there."

The smile stretches taut on Steve's cheeks. "Leave it, Tony. Come on down. It's not worth it."

A flicker of irritation passes over Tony's face. "Not worth the key to true artificial intelligence? Not worth understanding how the mind truly works?" Steve represses a shudder at the implication of that word. "Not worth the time it will save my AI in the field? Come on, Steve, we both know this is my area of expertise, not yours."

Steve forces himself to stand tall and sure. "Tony. Please."

Tony looks over his shoulder, brow pulled into a quirk of a confused smile. "Please?"

"Please."

That gives Tony pause. He turns around to face Steve, eyes wide and bright with understanding. He crosses his arms over his chest, his gaze searching. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing important. Just… please, Tony. Leave it."

"What do you even know about all of this?"

"More than I can explain right now. Just trust me. Please."

Tony shakes his head. "You've gotta give me more than that, Steve. You know that."

 _Yes_ , Steve thinks, _I always have_. Still. It doesn't hurt to try. "It's not enough just to ask you to trust me?"

Tony hesitates. Steve can see the moment he doubts, the moment he wants to trust Steve completely. Then his shields come up fast, and Steve can see it the moment he loses his chance. "You've gotta give me more than that."

The next words come ripped from Steve's throat without a second thought. "Tony, for once in your goddamn life, _listen to me_."

Tony's face goes ever so slightly slack at that. Steve sees it instantly, the second his mind engages and starts going a mile a minute to pick through whatever mistake Steve has just made.

"For once in my life?"

Steve doesn't flinch. He doesn't.

Tony seems to see the instinct regardless. He pulls away. "You're not my Steve, are you?"

Steve swallows. "In a manner of speaking."

Tony shakes his head. "What are you? No, don't answer that." He turns away, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, okay. It’s… it’s not something I ever would have expected Steve to say, so. Probably not another hallucination."

Those words cut Steve to the quick, an understanding he'd never had before suddenly appearing sunlight-bright behind his eyes. "Another— Tony, what hallucination?"

Tony ignores him. "And he's clearly here, solid, present. So. Okay. Definitely not another hallucination." Tony throws a would-be cocky expression over his shoulder, but Steve can see the fractures in Tony's features. "Good to know."

"Tony, what—"

Tony shakes his head, one hand up, as though to hold Steve at bay. Like anything could hold him back if he wanted Tony. "So. An Enhanced, maybe?" Tony looks over at Steve, eyes tracking all along his body. He wrinkles his nose and seems to shake off the idea.

Steve can practically see the thoughts and options and possibilities scrolling along behind Tony's eyes. He wants to interrupt, wants to quell the fear in them, but he doesn't dare. Better to let Tony give him an opening.

He doesn't have to wait long. Tony settles down on one of the stools in the lab, one hand hanging in a practiced kind of leisure between his knees. "Alright. Shoot."

Steve frowns. "Sorry?"

"Whatever cover story you're going to give me for who you are and how you got into my lab. Shoot."

Steve swallows. It's more blunt than any of the other chances he's had to reveal his identity to Tony before. "I'm—" He pauses, the words not coming quite right. "Shit, sorry, I… I wasn't expecting this."

Tony raises an eyebrow. "Language."

That startles a laugh out of Steve. God, it's been too long. "I'm not… I'm not 'your Steve,' you're right about that. But I am… I am Steve. In a manner of speaking." Tony waves a hand for Steve to go on. Steve crosses his arms, feels the defensiveness in the move. "I'm… I'm from a different… I'm from the…" He shakes his head again, runs his hand through his hair. Anything to shake the feeling of wrongness "Dammit."

Tony makes a noise, something small in the back of his throat. It has Steve looking up to meet Tony's eyes. "Oh," Tony says, his voice small. "Oh."

"Tony—"

"You're from, like, the future, right?"

Steve startles. "What?"

Tony nods, as though that answers everything. "I've gone over the theory a few times, looked into it." He shrugs. "Can't say I'm surprised someone figured it out eventually."

"Tony—"

"So, what, you're here to tell me not to create Ultron? Not to start down that path?"

Steve pauses, feeling caught out. "It… was a thought."

Tony hums, crossing over to one of the many consoles in the room. His fingers fly over the holographic keys, his mind going a mile a minute. "Bad things?"

"Yeah, Tony." His relief at the ease with which Tony is accepting his presence is overwhelming. "Bad things."

"With Ultron?"

Steve snorts. Tony turns to look at him, confusion in his expression. "Ultron wasn't even half the problem, Tony. It was everything that came after." When Tony stops moving, his fingers stilling, Steve looks up to meet his eyes head-on. "It was the endgame."

Tony's eyes flicker, settling eventually on something a bit more resigned. "Space. The aliens."

Steve nods, trying not to say any more than he needs to to make his point. "One in particular."

Tony raises an eyebrow. "One?"

"One."

Tony seems to think this over, then nods once, briskly, turning back to his screens and his keys. Steve waits in the relative silence, heart in his throat as he tries to figure out exactly what's going through Tony's head. But Tony says nothing, just continues with whatever he's doing on the computer.

He turns back to Steve eventually, eyes raking over his form as though trying to understand something more. "So. You're just here to try to fix things?"

Steve bites his lip. "I'm here to make sure things don't go the way they went in my timeline."

Tony rolls his eyes. "And that's sure to work out so well."

"You know the theory better than anyone," Steve counters, raising an eyebrow. "You know how it's going to go."

Tony waves a dismissive hand. "Parallel timelines, multiple dimensions, yeah, yeah, I know." When he turns back to look at Steve, there's a particularly shrewd look in his eyes. "You must have lost something pretty important to make it worth all this."

Steve's breath catches in his throat. This man isn't exactly like his Tony, but he's a damn sight closer than the one he'd sat with as he died on the side of the road, taking a little of Steve's heart with him. That was a man he'd watched grow from just a boy, a man he'd nurtured and cared for, one that shouldn't ever have seen him as something other than a father figure.

But this Tony. This man. This man knows him as a teammate. A partner. Something that might almost once have been a friend. Maybe even something more.

"I did."

Tony startles, as though he hadn't expected the words. "What, Steve? What did you lose?"

"For once in your life, you're actually asking the wrong question, Tony."

Confusion ripples over Tony's features. His eyes widen for the briefest of moments when he makes the connection, and then he's turning to face Steve directly. "Who, Steve? Who did you lose?"

Steve knows he doesn't even really need to say it; knows that Tony would have figured it out from just his expression. But he's tired of lying, tired of pretending to be someone he's not. Tired of pretending he's not completely in love with Tony in any and every form. "You, Tony. I lost you."

Tony's breath hitches. "We were—"

"No." Steve cuts him off before he can put the question into words. "No, you… you had a life, one far, far away from me, and you were a better man for it. But that never changed how important you were to me, Tony. How important you are."

"Steve—"

"You were everything, Tony. And I… I fucked that up."

Tony's breath hitches again. " _Language_ , Steve, dammit, I—"

Steve isn't sure when he started moving toward Tony, only that he's got a hand on Tony's cheek and Tony's hands are scrabbling for purchase against his desk. Steve knows he should stop, knows he should take a step back and let them both think, let them both _breathe_ , but then Tony's reaching up, hands fisting in Steve's shirt and there's nothing for it but to—

Catching the shield is the easiest thing in the world, instinct and years of practice making it second nature. He turns his head, feeling his heart slow in his chest when he sees the whole team arrayed out in front of him, armed and ready to take him down. He licks his lips, swallows down the fear and pain at seeing Natasha with her arm cocked back, ready to take him down, alive and well and whole.

"Tony," Cap says, "are you alright?"

Steve removes his palm from Tony's face and lifts his hands in surrender as he steps away.

"I'm— I'm fine, Cap," Tony says. His voice is breathy, and Steve can't quite stamp down on the little thrill that sends through his chest. Tony stumbles away, falling into line with his team. He's blinking hard, eyes flicking back and forth from Steve to Cap, his face a hard mask above the confusion Steve knows is simmering there.

Tony's words seem to be enough for Cap, who's standing tall and proud at the front of his team, even without the shield on his arm. "Who are you?"

Steve tries to smile, but seeing Tony and Natasha both brings back that hollowed out feeling that was his companion for far too long in another lifetime. "Just a traveler."

Cap snarls something that sounds like Thor's name, but just as Thor reaches to call for Mjolnir, Steve stretches his free hand out for the hammer. It stills six inches in front of his extended hand before turning in midair, the grip settling against his palm with startling familiarity. Steve smiles, relief in his bones. He may have made a decision on his own in that last lifetime, but now it seems that he was wrong. He is still worthy.

Thor makes a small, startled sound, and Steve looks up to meet his eyes. Thor's gaze is switching rapidly from Steve to Cap, something like understanding in his face. Steve's smile widens, knowing it doesn't quite reach his eyes — it never does these days — and nods at him.

Thor pushes past the ranks of the team, ignoring Cap's shouts. Steve holds Mjolnir out for Thor to take, but the god doesn't even look at it. "From whence have you come, my friend? What ill fate has befallen you?"

Steve just smiles, feeling the pain settle against his sternum, and remembers, with all the heaviness in his heart, that it is nothing to the pain that Thor carries. He reaches out, embracing his friend. "Only that which I cannot bear. You have always been stronger than I am, Thor. We both know this."

Thor returns the embrace, but Steve can feel the uncertainty in his friend's hold. Steve closes his eyes and settles against him, trying to remember what this felt like. This kindness. This support. This camaraderie. How long has it been since—

"Thor." Cap's voice is sharp, and Steve can't help but sigh at the familiar tone. He releases Thor and watches as the god pulls away and turns to face Cap. "What's going on here?"

"He is you, Captain. From another world." Thor turns back to face Steve, something concerned in his gaze. "Can you not feel it?"

Steve shrugs. "I can. He's just not used to this."

"Shut up."

Steve rolls his eyes at the hostility in his doppelgӓnger's voice. "Come on, seriously? Here? Now? After what you just saw?"

"What I just saw makes me think you might be another Enhanced, here to take out my team."

"And how the hell would I have gotten past JARVIS' security protocols then?"

Cap turns to look at Tony, who just shrugs. "Don't look at me, Cap, I'm with Thor on this one. I think he really is you."

The disbelief in Cap's eyes gets under Steve's skin in a way he hadn't expected. Before the thought is even really fully formed, the shield is out of his hands as he throws it at his counterpart. "Don't you dare—" Steve cuts himself off before he can finish the thought. It doesn't seem to matter, though. The other him already knows what he was going to say.

_Don't you dare look at Tony like he's crazy._

Cap slides the shield onto his arm, glaring across the room. "Then tell me something. Something only I would know."

"If I'm from the future, how do you know that only you would know anything I'm about to tell you?"

"Because there are some secrets that I won't tell."

The words cut through to Steve's gut, the lies and secrets that had piled up between him and Tony thick in his chest. He addresses Steve, but looks at Tony instead. "There are things you're not telling the team. Important things."

Cap's eyes go hard. "We all have our reasons for keeping certain secrets."

Steve feels his lips quirk up in a wry smile at the way the whole team turns to look at their Steve with varying levels of shock and betrayal. Tony, though. He only seems to have eyes for Steve himself. Steve lets himself meet that gaze head-on. "Yes," he says, trying to infuse as much meaning into the word as he can. "We do."

Tony starts, surprise on his features. "You know."

Steve feels the quirk in his lips and doesn't try to stamp it down. "I do. It… it isn't going to go the way you think, Tony. Not this time around."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I've seen what comes of this. I've seen where this leads. It isn't going to create the world that you want it to. It never could have."

Tony shakes his head. "You can't know that. You can't _know_ —"

"You're right. But I know that what you have and what it cost you was worth too much to be worth it. It's why I came to you first. There's so much more than just what's in front of you. You have to understand, Tony. You have to."

Tony reaches up, fingertips tapping against the center of his chest. There's no rattle of the arc reactor under his fingers. Steve doesn't let himself close his eyes against the sound, doesn't let himself cringe at the easy sound of nails on cloth on skin and bone. "Say I believe you." Steve's heart leaps into his throat. "Say I pretend that this actually makes some sort of sense. Say I let you take me down this path. Then what?"

"I can't say what will come, Tony. I can only say that it might be enough to undo the mistakes that I've made. There's a whole world here that I don't deserve to have, but I do this only because you deserve so much more than you got in my timeline. I won't let anything happen to you the way—" He stops short and shakes his head. "That's why I'm here. I'm not going to back down from this. And if I have to fight every single one of you, I will."

His last words ring through the silent room, an unspoken understanding resonating down everyone's spine. Steve closes his eyes. There's so much here, so much more to say and do, but this is all that matters. Their trust. _Tony's_ trust.

Tony breaks ranks first. Cap reaches out to catch him by the elbow, pulling him back while Tony looks over his shoulder at him. Steve watches the charged exchange, wishing he could see the expression on Tony's face.

After a moment, Tony yanks his arm out of Cap's grasp and turns back to Steve. "You're not going to have to fight anyone, Steve. I trust you."

Steve doesn't let himself relax as he stares down the rest of the Avengers. Even Tony making his way over to Steve's side isn't enough to make him relax. He may still have to fight all of the remaining Avengers, and now he'll have to defend Tony while doing it. It's not that he can't. It's that it won't be easy, especially with how out of practice he is.

Then Natasha steps away. Steve's heart leaps into his throat. She's not the same Nat he left behind in his last lifetime, but she's a vivid reminder of the woman he lost so long ago.

The woman he thinks he'd saved. God, he hopes she's alright.

Her voice is smooth and resonant as she speaks. "You know I'd follow you anywhere you asked, Steve."

"Nat," Cap starts, but she shakes her head.

"He's you, Cap; that much is clear to anyone paying attention. If he's gone to these lengths to achieve his goal, it must be a worthwhile one."

Steve watches the pinched way his doppelgӓnger observes him.

Thor still hasn't moved from Steve's side, and Bruce follows Nat and Tony's lead, coming to gather around Steve. He's visibly trying to catalogue the differences between him and their Steve, and some part of Steve wonders what he finds. Steve only has eyes for his counterpart. If he can't convince him, this might all be for naught.

Cap doesn't concede anything, but he does relax his expression minutely. "Stay here. We don't want to confuse anyone at the party downstairs."

Steve nods. He'd expected as much. Tony turns back to Cap with an expression on his face that Steve can't parse. Defensive, maybe. Protective.

"You don't get to keep him in here. He has every right to be here, just like anyone else."

"Tony—" Cap starts, but Steve interrupts him.

"It's alright, Tony. I don't mind." He smiles at Tony, holding his image in his mind as he settles into the affection spreading through his chest. "Go enjoy yourself."

Tony lingers as the rest of the Avengers make their way out of the lab. Steve tries to keep his features calm and neutral, not letting anything give him away. "You sure this is okay?"

Steve nods. "It's no problem."

Tony sways in the doorway, as though his body is being pulled closer to Steve's in the moment and he can't control it. "You can go down to my workshop if you prefer that."

"The one just below us?"

Tony hums. "Or the one in the sub-basement."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

Tony hesitates for the space of a breath, then nods. "Yeah. Yeah, that's fine."

Steve smiles. "Thanks for the offer, Tony, but I think I'll save that until you're ready to go down there with me."

Tony swallows. His eyes are bright with something Steve can't quite pick apart. "Okay. See you later, then."

Steve waits in the lab, his heart in his throat as he drifts from screen to screen.

He understands all of this better than he might have years ago. In another lifetime, Tony let him linger in the lab more than he might have otherwise. He's spent years watching Tony manipulate the screens, long enough that he could probably use these just as well as those. He doesn't, though. There's too much weight in his actions if he lets himself play with Tony's creations here in this in between.

Instead, he stays in the room, cataloguing the differences between this lab and the one he left behind. This is Tony at his truest, at his most whole, and there's so much more to do, to say, that will keep Steve adrift at sea if he lets himself sink. If he lets himself linger.

There's a world around him, one he could slip out into and explore, as long as he's not in the room with the rest of the Avengers. A whole world of openness and honesty and possibility, should he take advantage of it. He can't deny that he wants to do it more than he wants to breathe sometimes.

But he has a job to do. He's here to keep Tony safe, keep him alive, if only because that's all he knows anymore. He could try to ingratiate himself with the team, yes, but that feels… inauthentic. It's not the reason he's here, and it really wouldn't do to pretend like it is.

Not to mention that he doesn't think his heart could handle growing close to Natasha again when he knows what saving the universe cost her.

In the following weeks, Steve spends most of his time down in the workshop, watching Tony work, and only leaving when he needs to coax Tony to eat or sleep or shower. Tony seems all too willing to follow his lead, a strange shift from what Steve's been used to in recent lifetimes. But it's something, and that has to matter at the end of the day. He doesn't realize until too late that this is all Tony's way of gathering data. Learning him. Understanding him. He doesn't realize until too late just how much he's revealed.

* * *

"What was I to you?"

Steve looks up at Tony. "What?"

"What was I to you, then? In your other lifetime. What was I to you? Or, he. What was he to you?"

Steve closes his eyes, reaches back through decades to try to remember the man he's doing all this for. "He was… he was a dear friend. One that I betrayed in the worst of ways."

There's a sound of something clattering to the floor. Steve opens his eyes and turns to look at Tony, who's fumbling to pick up a screwdriver off the floor. Steve feels the melancholy settle in his chest, the familiarity of the motion contrasting with the ache of memory that this isn't his Tony to have or to hold. This man isn't his.

But sometimes when he looks at Steve this way, he wonders if maybe, just maybe, he could have this.

"What did you do?"

Steve's throat goes tight at the whispered question. "Tony—"

Tony shakes his head. "Sorry, sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

Steve shakes his head in return. "It's not that." His voice feels thin, his lips chapped on the damned words. "It's that—"

"That you don't want to change anything other than exactly what you're here to change."

"No." Tony jumps at the harshness in Steve's tone, but Steve marches his way across the workshop regardless, coming to a stop with his toes inches from Tony's. "No, Tony, it's not that at all. If I could do everything over—" He shakes his head. "But I can't. And it's not my story to tell."

"You kept something from me. From him."

Steve closes his eyes. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"You kept something from him and you don't want to tell me because… what? Because you think Cap will?"

Steve steps away. "I should go. I shouldn't have—"

Tony grabs him by the biceps, and were it anyone else Steve would have fought it. But it's Tony — it's _Tony_ — and if there's one person in the world that Steve would never fight again, it's Tony Stark. So when Tony hauls him in and presses his lips to Steve's, Steve doesn't fight. He sinks into Tony's lips and lets the rest of the world melt away.

"You loved him." Steve jerks away at the question, but when he looks at Tony from inches away, it's impossible to pull back any further. "You loved him, just like I…"

Steve's heart lurches in his chest. "Just like you love your Steve."

Tony blinks one, two, three times in rapid succession. It's enough for Steve to know the truth. "So let me have this, Steve." He leans in, whispers the next four words against Steve's lips. "Let _us_ have this."

Tony stays there, suspended in time, in space, his lips brushing against Steve's each time he inhales. Steve wants so badly he could die from it, so badly he could give in and let the world crumble if it meant he could have Tony again.

But he can't. Not like this.

"Tony—"

"Sir." The sound of JARVIS's voice is enough to have both of them startling, pulling away from each other.

Tony blinks hard, and Steve tries not to see the tears in his eyes. "Yes, JARVIS?"

"Captain Rogers is here to see you."

Steve and Tony turn as one to see Cap, hand suspended over the holographic number pad that would let him into the lab. Steve can tell just from where his fingers are positioned that he'd been halfway through punching in the code when he'd spotted them. He's staring at Steve with wide eyes, shock and something like betrayal in his features. Steve closes his eyes, knowing that's as damning a motion as he could make. When he opens them, Cap is gone.

Tony isn't.

He's staring up at Steve with naked, open want on his face. Steve sways toward him, into his space, inhaling the warm scent of a Tony at work. He wonders, for a moment, what it would be like to give in. What it would be like to succumb. But he can't do that. He owes it to himself to do better. To be better.

He takes a step back and meets Tony's eyes head-on. "I'm not your Steve, Tony. And you're not my Tony."

"It's close enough."

"You don't mean that."

Tony gesticulates with one hand, as though trying to find the words to make Steve understand whatever is going on in his mind. Steve does. He doesn't need the words. He never has.

"You don't," Steve says to the man that is so close to what he wants, and yet so damn far away. "I'm not the man you want. He is."

"Steve—"

"So go to him, Tony. Go to him, and he'll see what he means to you. He feels the same way."

"But—"

"Come on, Tony. If anyone knows that man's heart, it's me."

Tony's eyes go bright, his expression lifting. "You think?"

"I know. Go to him, Tony. Tell him what's going through your head. He's not perfect, but he's yours. Go. Take what you can have. It's the least you deserve."

Tony hops off the workbench Steve must have manhandled him onto and darts around him, pausing for the briefest moment on Steve's other side. He reaches out, fingertips ghosting over Steve's cheek. "He loved you too, you know."

Steve's too slow to stop the sound of disbelief that makes its way past his lips.

Tony's face goes hard in response. "If you know my Steve's heart, then I know your Tony's. He loved you too, Steve."

"Maybe at one point he did. Maybe even when he…" Steve shakes his head. "But I don't think so, Tony. Not after what I did."

Tony turns to face Steve fully. "What did you do, Steve? Because I am damn sure that nothing short of selling me out to the enemy would have made me love you any less."

Steve swallows down the want in his chest at that, holds back the need to do something about it, to have Tony and hold him just this once. But that isn't fair to either of them. "Go to him."

Tony makes it all the way to the door this time before he turns back, hesitant and wondering. "And if… and if he doesn't want me?"

The words are small, desperate, more frightened than Steve has heard Tony sound in a long time. It leaves an aching dagger between his ribs, but he forces himself to ignore it. He turns to face Tony head-on and says the words he doesn't think he deserves to say. "Then I will be here for you. For whatever you want. Whatever you need."

Tony hesitates a moment longer, then stands a little taller before he turns on his heel and slips out of the workshop.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, okay, hi, this chapter is.... basically just smut. Smut smut smut. 5.7k words of smut. and very little dialogue because I wrote this chapter half on a dare to see if I could write sexy smut with no dialogue; feel free to let me know if I succeeded. If smut is not to your taste, don't worry, we'll be back to our regularly scheduled angst and death next week. Please enjoy!

Steve waits for what feels like hours but which, in retrospect, must not have been much more than one. He sits in the relative silence of the workshop, listening to DUM-E and Butterfingers and U go about their tasks. It's comforting in its familiarity, damning in all the small differences. But it's home, home in as much as anything in this timeline is, and it's not enough, never enough, but Steve said he would wait.

So he waits.

The room grows cold, the lights going out more than once from Steve's lack of movement, and isn't it stunning that Tony has programmed the lights to distinguish between his movements and the movements of his bots, to know when there is a human in the room and when there are only the remnants of Tony's unending, unerring efforts.

Tony deserves all the good that his Steve can give him, deserves all the strength and warmth and power that comes from having the man you love at your side. Steve isn't that man for this Tony, isn't even that man for his Tony. It's a brand on his heart, a mark on his soul, a reminder that he's never, ever been good enough for Tony.

Never.

Even now, as he waits in the cold and in the dark. There's no way Cap will turn Tony down, no way that he will walk away from the best thing that's ever happened to either of them. He'd been selfish and foolish to reach for another man's love, for a paltry imitation of his own love, and there's nothing left for it but to acknowledge that this man was never going to be his.

And still, he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

And when Tony comes, eyes red-rimmed and hands shaking with something deeper and more desperate than Steve could ever have imagined, Steve reaches out for him. Tony's lips part on a broken sob, on the desperate words he wants to speak, but Steve won't let him, can't, leans in and takes Tony's lips with his own, swallowing the words. Tony gasps, surges up against him, arms twining around his neck. It's everything their almost-kiss never could have been, the desperation of two men adrift at sea, lost in the wide world of the unknown, clinging to the only thing they've ever known.

The last thing they could ever live for.

Tony pulls away and stares up into Steve's eyes in the light of the workshop, desperation and want spilling over as tears. Steve reaches up to cup Tony's cheek, thumbing the tears away. He sees Tony's lips tremble, sees the way they go to form his name, but the thought is too much to bear. He leans in, kissing the whisper of his name from Tony's lips. Tony stills, then seems to understand, leaning up into Steve's embrace.

Steve kisses him until his lips start to sting, until he knows the strength of Tony's back under his hands, until it is only the dregs of his own willpower holding him back from taking Tony to bed.

And then Tony's pulling away, his hand sliding from Steve's shoulder down the line of his arm to his wrist, pulling him toward the couch in the corner of the workshop. Steve stops short, glancing at the couch and feeling the cheapness of the moment settle like a stone in his gut. Tony pauses, sensing Steve's stillness. He glances at Steve and seems to see, in an instant, exactly what his misgivings are. He darts back in, close, surging up to kiss Steve senseless again. If this is all Steve gets to have, it won't be enough, but he'll learn to live through it. So he closes his eyes and pulls Tony to him and lets him surge up against Steve's chest, fingers desperate in Steve's hair. Steve lets Tony take whatever he wants, even though it's nowhere close to what Steve himself wants, and then…

And then Tony's pulling him to the elevator, moving rapidfire and quick-footed, tugging Steve along as though terrified he might disappear. Steve follows in silence, letting himself be pulled. It can't be— Tony can't mean—

Steve doesn't get the chance to see what button Tony pressed, what floor they're going to, but he doesn't yet dare hope that he's right and that he might possibly be—

Tony tugs him down to kiss him again, their mouths pressed against each other even closer than their bodies in the tiny, suddenly stiflingly hot elevator. Steve molds his hands to Tony's back, taking whatever this moment could be for them. Whatever it won't be. Whatever it isn't.

So when the elevator door opens not on Tony's floor as he'd anticipated but on Steve's own quarters on the guest level, he almost balks. This isn't what he'd intended, isn't what he'd meant, and yet—

He looks down at Tony, at the tense line of his back, at the nervousness in the way he shifts his weight from foot to foot. This isn't what he would have wanted, but he can see why it's what Tony would have wanted. Something more intimate than the workshop, yet not so intimate as his own bedroom. Or maybe it's the other way around. Something other than the places where, one day, he might even be able to take his Steve to bed.

Steve's never going to have that chance with his Tony. Not here, at any rate.

Steve turns Tony to face him, cups his face in both hands, and leans in to kiss him soundly. To kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until he's conveyed that he knows what Tony is doing and that he is grateful. Better here in the privacy of their room, better here in the safety and comfort of Steve's bed, better here in a floor Tony can shut away when all is said and done than the relative safety and comfort of the workshop or his bedroom.

It's better this way.

Tony pulls away with a breathless laugh, his eyes bright and warm, understanding in a way that no one else ever could understand Steve. It's enough to have him leaning in to press another soft kiss to Tony's lips before taking his hand. He steps past Tony and drags him to the bedroom, smiling at the laughter that follows him.

Once the door closes behind them, though, there is no question of what their purpose is. No question of why they're here. No question of what they're about to do. The room is lit by the moon and the faintest hint of stars, the distant streetlights below and the small bedside lamp that Steve turns on as Tony tumbles him into bed. Steve rolls them until Tony is beneath him, letting his weight press Tony into the bed. Tony gasps, arching up against him, his body thrown into perfect relief by the faint light in the room. It's impossibly beautiful, more than Steve has any right to experience, but here it is, this moment, Tony beneath him, desperate and _wanting_ in the way Steve never dreamed he could have.

It's too much.

Steve leans in, ghosting his lips over the edge of Tony's goatee, pressing kisses along the line of his throat. Tony whimpers, writhes beneath him as though control of his body is beyond his comprehension. Steve smiles against Tony's skin, reveling in the closeness, the warmth, the _presence_ of the man beneath him, whole and living and vital in the way he never thought he'd have again.

He makes quick work of the buttons on Tony's shirt — he'd changed, before he'd gone to see Cap, then, or maybe after — and kisses his way down Tony's chest. The arc reactor is long gone, the scarring on his chest the only reminder of what he'd endured. Steve presses kiss after kiss after kiss to the abused skin, nosing at the reminder of all that this man has endured. All that he may still have to endure. _Cold and snow and desperation and_ — Steve pulls away, not daring to look up into the knowing eyes that Tony no doubt has trained on him. He chokes down the tears and presses his forehead to Tony's chest. This isn't the time. This isn't the time.

Tony tilts Steve's head up to face him, but Steve keeps his eyes fiercely closed, unwilling to be weak in front of Tony. Unwilling to let Tony see him cry.

Tony swipes a thumb over his cheek, and Steve looks up instinctively. He meets Tony's gaze and the tears spill from his eyes at the warmth and knowing and understanding that wait for him there. It's too much. Too intense. Too close to everything he wants, even as it is nothing like it at all.

But it's still Tony. Still Tony.

Steve turns his head to press a kiss to the pulse in Tony's wrist, treasuring the reminder of Tony's life. Tony lets out a soft breath, and Steve feels it ruffle his hair. He smiles, pressing another kiss to Tony's palm, before he returns his attention to Tony's chest. He makes his way down, hands roaming along Tony's sides and thighs as he works to keep the man as invested and wanting as Steve himself feels. It's an easy thing to work Tony's pants down over his hips, to tug them off over his feet, to breathe over the head of his cock and feel the way Tony shivers beneath him. Steve smiles, palming him through his boxers. He tries not to notice the silken feel of the cloth, or remember that Tony had chosen these for another.

Steve looks up at Tony, letting the smirk settle on his features as he tugs the boxers off in one move. Tony laughs above him, one arm thrown over his face as he watches. Steve smiles in turn, pressing a kiss to the inside of Tony's thigh just to hear him moan. Steve tugs Tony toward him to kiss his mouth, to ravish him the way he had only ever been able to dream of. Tony laughs and laughs, and before Steve can blink he's been divested of his own shirt. Steve smiles down at Tony as he spreads his hands over Steve's chest, his eyes wide and wanting. There's a twinge in his chest, a reminder of another would-be lover touching him with reverence and shock, but the thought drifts away as easily as it had come. Another lifetime, maybe. Another version of him. Another time.

Peggy was never going to be his the way he wants Tony to be.

Steve leans in and kisses the laughter from Tony's lips, pressing Tony's chest against his, and feeling the moan that reverberates against his ribcage at the feel of Steve's erection pressing against his belly. Tony reaches one hand to fist in Steve's hair, the other sliding down to cup his erection, fingers sliding over and around the length and heft of him. Tony gives a guttural groan, something wanting and desperate in the sound, and Steve shudders at it. He pulls back a moment later, eyes catching on the naked want in Tony's eyes. It's too much. It's too much. It's not enough.

Steve shakes his head.

Tony cocks his head to the side, lips parting to break the unspoken agreement for silence, but Steve leans in to capture his lips before he can ask the question. He takes one of Tony's hands in his and slides it around so that it cups his own ass. Tony jolts in his arms, and then whimpers, melting against Steve as though he has nothing to hold himself up with any longer. Steve smiles, turning his head to press a kiss to Tony's temple. Tony shudders at the unspoken question, then nods, just once.

Steve turns Tony's head to kiss him again, warm and wanting and square on the lips. Tony smiles against him, and Steve isn't sure if it's a concession or an agreement, but whatever it is, it has Tony fumbling at the button on Steve’s pants, the desperation to get him naked apparently renewed.

Steve smiles and lets Tony help him out of his clothes. Then he's standing there before Tony, naked and hard and wanting, and for all that this isn't the way he'd have wanted it to go down, he can't actually say that he's that upset. This is Tony, his to have and to hold, even if only just for this moment, and that's more than he ever could have asked for.

He presses Tony into the bed with his full body weight again, reveling in the way that Tony laughs beneath him. Tony shoves at him halfheartedly as Steve nuzzles at his throat, the chuckles tapering off into moans. At some point, they've taken up a steady pace together, a rolling of their hips that could be enough to get them off given enough time and patience.

Steve isn't patient. Not now. Not when he has Tony beneath him, just as desperate and horny as he is. Not when Tony seems to want everything that he wants, just as badly as he wants it. He leans up, stealing another kiss from Tony, before he reaches blindly for the bedside table.

Tony laughs, shoving at his arm before reaching as though to retrieve the lube from a different drawer than the one Steve had been going for. Tony quirks an eyebrow at him when he finds that Steve had already moved the lube into a different drawer, and for a split second Steve could be a dimension away with his Tony in his own bed, smiling and laughing and wanting beneath him.

It knocks the wind out of him.

Tony seems to see it the moment Steve's mind drifts, the moment it goes somewhere else, and then he's leaning up to kiss at Steve's temple. It's enough to get Steve back into the moment, enough to have him uncapping the lube, spilling it over his fingers, and reaching around to open himself up for Tony. Tony moans at the sight, leaning back and propping himself up on his elbows, smiling down at the show while he strokes idly at his cock. His eyes flick back and forth between Steve's face and his fingers, and he keeps running his other hand absently along Steve' flank. It's just enough contact to remind Steve where he is, why he's here, as he forces a second finger inside, desperation making him sloppy, but not enough to soothe the ache in his gut.

Tony's fingers tighten on Steve's thigh, and Steve freezes immediately, letting himself sink into the reminder of Tony's touch, the safety of Tony's hands on his body. Tony reaches out to wrap a hand around Steve's wrist, tugging gently in a silent order. Steve hesitates, but then Tony leans forward to kiss the cut of his hip, and there's no way Steve was ever going to say no to Tony. He slips his fingers out from inside himself, biting his lip against the emptiness. Then there's the sound of the lube cap being opened, and Steve knows where this is going before Tony can even make his move. Steve whimpers as Tony's fingertips circle his hole, gentle and testing and cautious, careful and wanting and warm. Steve slumps over Tony's chest, boneless and easy for the only man he's ever loved this way. One finger, then two, and no one knows him the way Tony does, no one understands the desperation and the weight. None of them know, but Tony. Tony's always known. Even when they didn't see eye-to-eye they trusted each other, or at least, Tony trusted him. Always.

Unerringly.

 _Endlessly_.

Tony's gentler than Steve himself had been. Not cautious, but gentle. He stretches and twists and probes about inside of Steve, and when he slides a third finger in with the first two, it's as easy as breathing. Steve sighs against Tony's shoulder, takes up an easy rhythm against Tony's fingers, and when Tony turns to press a kiss to his temple, he knows he's more than ready. 

He turns to meet Tony's kiss with one of his own, lips on lips and that's the only way they were ever meant to be. Then Steve's pulling away and passing Tony a condom and then he's lowering himself onto Tony's cock, feeling the way it fills him as though nothing and no one else was ever meant to be inside him this way. There's pain, yes, but Steve is no stranger to pain, and this… this is so much more than just pain. This is Tony. This is Tony, his to have and to hold, inside him as Steve surrounds him and there's no way this was ever going to be enough.

How could he have ever thought that one night would be enough?

But Steve knows how to chase tiny pleasures, knows how to look around and hold himself together and let the world fall apart around him while he takes his first breath with Tony seated fully inside him. Steve can feel him in the back of his throat, can feel the way Tony is everywhere inside him and below him and around him. Everywhere, everywhere, everywhere, and there's no way this is what he deserves, but damn if he's not going to take what he can get.

This may not be his Tony, but this is still _Tony_. This is still Tony.

Steve goes to lift his hips, thighs straining instinctively to take whatever pleasure he can find. Tony gasps beneath him, and Steve can feel Tony's muscles straining beneath his fingertips. Steve bites his lip, swallowing down the instinctive insistence to letTony take whatever he wants. Steve isn't ready yet; it's been too long, and if this is going to last…

Tony runs a hand along his flank, silently coaxing him off the ledge. Steve relaxes and offers Tony a smile in return. Tony's answering smile is weak and small, but there in a way that relaxes the tension in Steve's gut. They're okay. They're okay.

It takes a few long moments, Steve rolling his hips against Tony's until he finds a rhythm that works. Just as he's starting to lose himself in the rhythm and rise and fall, Tony gives a low whimper beneath him. Steve looks down to meet his eyes, seeing his own desperation reflected back at him. The answering smile is automatic. So is the deliberately slowed roll of his hips. Tony gasps, arching his head back, the tendons in his throat standing out from the desperation of keeping as still as possible.

Steve leans down, licking a line along Tony's throat before nipping at his ear. Tony's head snaps forward to meet Steve's eyes. The understanding is instantaneous.

Tony takes Steve's hips in hand, his own hips snapping up to fuck even deeper into Steve. Steve lets his head fall back, one hand running tantalizingly slow down the line of his chest, tempting Tony in whatever way he can. Tony growls beneath him, hips bucking up to knock Steve off balance. Steve falls forward, hands landing on Tony's shoulders as though they have no other place to be. Tony cranes his neck up, catching Steve's earlobe between his teeth in retaliation. Steve takes a sharp breath, his body going bright hot and alert as Tony goes on fucking up into him. It's too much sensation, not enough friction, exactly what Steve had always wanted from Tony, all at the same time. Too much not enough exactly right.

Then Tony's angling his hips just right, knocking the breath from Steve's lungs. He's riding a knife's edge of want and desperation, his whole body giving over to Tony as though no one else has ever existed. This should be enough, this body-to-body connection, but Steve can feel the distance, the dissonance, the not enough not enough not enough. This should be all he needs, all he's ever needed, and instead his greed is going to do whatever it can to remind him that this isn't exactly what he'd wanted. That this isn't—

Tony wraps a hand around the back of Steve's neck and hauls him down into a kiss. It's a silent admonition, an unspoken chastisement, and there's no way that this man could know him as well as he seems to but he does, he does, he does. Steve closes his eyes and revels in the closeness, in the press of Tony's lips against his, in the pressure of Tony inside him. It isn't everything, but damn if it isn't close enough.

Steve tightens his knees around Tony's hips, pulling back just far enough to search his features. Tony meets his gaze directly, easy and unquestioning. Then Steve's hauling Tony upright in one swift move, unseating Tony in the process. Tony pulls back, a question in his eyes, but Steve just shakes his head, brushing aside a curl that's come loose from all the product in Tony's hair.

Tony's whole face lights up. He understands.

Then Tony's kissing Steve's cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, his lips his lips his lips, as he lifts Steve's hips and lines up. Steve slides down to take him in one smooth motion. They both shudder with the familiar press, with the comfort of being joined thus, and then Steve's taking up a languorous pace, his hips rolling slow and steady against Tony's, their bodies working in tandem. Steve drapes his arms over Tony's shoulders, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Tony's mouth, tongues twining and twisting as their breaths mingle in the ever-shrinking space between them. It's the closest Steve has ever been to Tony, the closest he thinks he can ever get without crawling into his skin. They're pressed together, chest to chest, breath to breath, heart to heart, and Steve can't ever remember feeling this whole before.

He can never remember feeling this shattered.

He pulls back far enough to bite his lip, his body trembling with suppressed sobs. Tony reaches up, pressing Steve's sweat-damp hair behind his ears. Steve goes on rolling his hips against Tony's, but Tony has gone still beneath him. His kisses are tentative, cautious, nervous. As though he thinks—

As though he thinks Steve is having second thoughts.

It's enough to have Steve leaning in to take Tony's mouth again in a fervor, heat and heart and breath in the press of lips. Tony sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, and Steve presses in even closer. It should be easy, should be right and bright and perfect, but it isn't it isn't it isn't.

It's better.

Because here, now, there are no secrets between them. Here, now, they are two men that want what little solace they can find in one another and nothing else. Here, now, Steve has lost everything and Tony will lose so much more and there's nothing for it but to curl together and want and want and want.

Here, now, they can have their make-believe happiness.

Tony skims a hand along Steve's ribs. Steve shudders at the touch, feeling the meaning in every loop and whorl of Tony's fingerprints. He lets his head fall back, bearing his throat to Tony's teeth. Tony obliges. Steve goes on fucking himself on Tony's cock, desperate to just feel Tony inside of him. To feel Tony down to his bones. He's already got Tony all over his skin and soul. Might as well make it complete.

He doesn't let himself speak the words against Tony's lips, only lets himself ride and ride and ride. Lets himself feel Tony everywhere within and without and around. And when Tony takes him in hand, his own desperation clearly at its peak, Steve lets the touch ground him in ways he never thought it could. Lets it put him back in his skin, lets him settle into his muscles, lets him _feel_ Tony in every way he's never let himself feel.

Because this may be his only chance.

Steve sinks his teeth into the meat of Tony's shoulder, just past the point where his neck meets his shoulder. There will doubtless be a mark there tomorrow, but Steve can't find it in himself to care. If Tony wants to keep this a secret, he can, but Steve will be eternally grateful for the reminder, however short-lived it may end up being. Tony digs his nails into Steve's back on either side of his spine, just above his hips, and for a second, Steve wonders if he's drawn blood. In some distant, desperate part of his mind, he hopes and hopes and hopes that Tony has managed to leave a mark on his skin, something to make all of this feel as real as it actually is. Something to ground him in the reality of this moment, something to make it feel like he isn't just having a fever dream of everything he's ever wanted and then some.

Something to make this real.

But then the sensation passes, the pain dulling in the way pain always has since the serum. It's frustrating, an ache that he doesn't quite know how to define. It's _everything_ , and it still isn't enough. So when Tony reaches out and ghosts the backs of his fingers over Steve's cock, he's a little surprised that that's enough to have him coming. It's a long, desperate moment, his whole world narrowed down to Tony — Tony inside him, Tony beneath him, Tony surrounding him in scent and touch and feel — and when he comes down he feels more drained than he ever has before. He slumps down over Tony's chest, a puppet whose strings have been cut, and heaves down great gulps of air just to try to get back to center.

Tony's still hard inside of him.

He's holding himself still, his muscles trembling with suppressed need, and Steve feels it before he can really understand what it is that he's feeling. He taps Tony on the shoulder, just over the bruise, an unspoken reminder that he wants this just as much as Tony does. Tony tilts his head to the side, taking Steve's lips in a gentle kiss. It's an ache, a hurt that goes deeper than skin, deeper than soul, and Steve doesn't quite know what to do with it but roll over and show his belly.

Literally, in this case.

And then Tony's over him, long, lean lines, his body not so much his weapon the way it is for Steve. Tony's mind is his weapon, always has been, and Steve doesn't quite know what to do when Tony starts moving inside him, slow, steady, not overeager, but warm and welcoming. It should be too much, the tenderness in his movements and in his expression, but somehow it only serves to make the ache in Steve's chest gentle. This is Tony, even if he isn't Steve's Tony, and that has to be enough for right now.

There's no intent in the way that Tony moves, only a kind of easy give and take, the knowledge that this is all that he may ever have, all that he can ask for. It aches somewhere in Steve's chest, somewhere behind his sternum, the way Tony never takes more than he thinks is his due, and gives more than any man could ever be expected to give. It's a beautiful kind of poison, the way Tony gives his whole soul and wants for nothing but the safety of the people he loves in return. It burns somewhere inside of Steve, burns and aches and leaves him wanting in the way that only loss ever can. 

He looks up to meet Tony's eyes, wanting to have and to hold and to love, the way he's always wanted to, but there's no way he has that right with this man, with this iteration of the man he's always loved.

Tony's face melts into a soft smile, easy and warm, everything Steve has ever wanted and never had. He leans down, lips pressing against Steve's in an unspoken consolation. A reminder that they're in this together, that neither of them is with the man they want to be with, that neither of them has the partner that he's wanted, that neither of them will be able to hold their whole world between their palms, but at least they have this. A close approximation and the kind of easy give and take that has always characterized the best parts of their relationship. Steve feels the smile spread over his lips, pressing up against Tony to feel the way Tony gives and gives and gives, to have only the barest amount given in return. It leaves that ache in Steve's chest, the reminder of the way Tony had spoken not for Peter, not for Rhodey, but for Pepper Pepper Pepper, his whole being tuned into the way those he loves exist.

This is Tony in his truest form. Steve could want for nothing more.

Tony's thrusts are slow and easy, languorous and wanting, and Steve meets each push with one of his own. Tony's there, hovering over him and pressed inside of him and there's no way this was ever going to be anything but perfectly imperfect. Tony kisses along the line of his jaw, his throat, his collarbone, and somewhere in the midst of all Tony's patience, Steve goes hard again. He must have lost track of time in there somewhere, but Steve can't find it in him to mind when Tony just grins down at him like he knows what Steve's thinking. Steve wants to reach up and cover his face from Tony's searching eyes, but Tony catches Steve's hand in one of his own, pinning it to the bed above his head.

If Steve arches with want against the pressure, that's between him and Tony.

Tony pushes him to the edge with relentless precision, only to back off at the moment before Steve comes. Again and again and again Tony lets him ride the edge of orgasm, but never does he let him crest that wave. Steve clings to him, panting and wanting and desperate, but it's never enough. Tony kisses him breathless, keeps their fingers interlaced where he's still pinning Steve's hand to the bed, but he doesn't come close to touching Steve's cock or letting him come. It's sweat and heat, hands and mouths, bodies and souls, and Steve feels the world at his feet, the kind of desperate want and need that only Tony has ever instilled in him. Steve feels the fire in his veins, in his bones, in every breath and stretch and push and pull. It's a kind of desperation that he can't remember ever having before, a kind of want that gets down into his soul, Tony playing the piano of his body with a maestro's fingers. Tony is everything, and Steve can't think of any reason or way that this could ever be anything more perfect.

Well. Maybe one way.

Tony seems to register the shift in Steve's thoughts, in the line of his body, and then he's sinking his teeth into Steve's shoulder, as though to leave a matching bruise. Steve arches against him at the pressure, the want in his blood singing the way it hasn't this whole night. This is Tony, stripped bare, down to his essentials, and Steve can't blame his body for trying impossibly hard to come against the tsunami of Tony's want.

Steve reaches his free hand up to grasp at Tony's back, a question and a plea all at once. Tony nods against him, and Steve lets his fingernails rake down Tony's back before he reaches down to fist himself once, twice, and then he's coming in the space between them. Tony groans above him, hips twitching as he comes.

For a brief, blissful moment, everything is perfect. They're together, whole, united as one, and there's nothing the universe can do to take that away from them.

Then Tony pulls back, thumb pressing over the already rising bruise on Steve's shoulder, and the moment shatters.

This isn't perfect. It's a pale imitation.

For his part, Steve doesn't mind. He knows he isn't going to get his Tony back again — that ship has sailed. But the man above him deserves to have his Steve at his side, not a ghost of the man that he loves, destroyed by his own mistakes. This Tony deserves so much better.

Before Steve can open his mouth and ruin the afterglow, though, Tony leans in, kissing the words from Steve's lips. It's a request, a desperate wish for just a few more moments like this, a moment for them to be together like this. Just a moment longer.

Steve doesn't fight it. He'll always give Tony whatever he asks.

Tony's face is pulled into a melancholy smile as he draws back from the kiss. He slips off the bed and makes short work of the condom and the mess on both their stomachs, and then he's hovering at the edge of the bed, eyes darting from Steve to the door and back again.

Steve understands immediately. It's not even a thought to pull Tony back down into the bed with him, but it's too much to think of lying face to face as they try to sleep. So he tightens his grip on Tony's wrist and rolls onto his side, his back to Tony's chest, as he closes his eyes and sinks into the warmth of Tony at his back. He can feel Tony's breath ruffling the hairs at the nape of his neck, can feel the quiet sort of want in the line of Tony's body. Steve can't help it. He pulls Tony even closer, wrapping Tony's arm around his ribs and interlacing their fingers. If he holds their joined hands over his heart, that's for him to know and Tony's pressing fingers to remember.

It isn't the man he wants in his truest form, but it's more than Steve thought he would ever have again. It's Tony, in his bed and in his arms, and that is a greater gift than he deserves. So, with Tony's fingers twined with his and Tony's breath on his neck, Steve lets himself drift off into the first easy sleep he's had in this timeline.

It's more than he deserves, but he will take it gladly.


	11. Chapter 11

The knock on the door when it comes is soft, just loud enough to penetrate Steve's sleep, and even then, only with his enhanced hearing. He doesn't open his eyes at first, too muddled from sleep to process what he's hearing. There's a warm weight pressed up behind him and a disinclination to leave the bed, and though he isn't sure where exactly it's coming from, he's always been inclined to listen to his instincts. He lets himself settle back into bed, letting the quiet start to soothe his uncertainty away. There's nothing to worry about, nothing to concern himself with, just—

The knock comes again.

Steve opens his eyes to stare up at the ceiling at that, something quiet and tired in his soul. Something in him knows what this is, knows what's happening, but it isn't his brain, isn't his conscious mind. There's something happening. He just doesn't know what it is.

Then Steve remembers what happened last night and the realization hits him. Tony in his bed with him. A faint knock on the door that has no chance of rousing a deeply sleeping Tony but every chance of waking Steve. And— there it is, a third knock on the door, enough to convince Steve that he's right.

It's his counterpart at the door.

Steve lets himself think, however briefly, about leaving him there. About ignoring the knocking and the other man's presence and just staying here in bed with Tony. But he came here to fix things, to _save_ Tony, and he can't do that if he doesn't face up to the mistakes his counterpart has made. The mistakes he himself might have made.

That doesn't make climbing out from beneath Tony's sleeping form any easier.

Steve pulls on a pair of boxers and runs a hand through his hair. He has no doubt that it does nothing to hide the mess Tony left there, but it's an effort. More of an effort than he wants to make, but less of an effort than he needs to make for Tony's sake. He shrugs on a t-shirt as well before a fourth knock convinces him not to test the depths of Tony's sleep and instead make for the door.

As expected, it's the Captain that stares him down from across his threshold.

Cap's eyes narrow. "Captain."

Steve raises an eyebrow but doesn't respond.

Cap snarls at him. "You're just going to stand there, then? When you just took advantage of Tony when he was—"

"Tony made his choices." Steve doesn't even hide the fact that he knows exactly where the other man was going to go with that. He takes a step closer, crossing the threshold to shut the door behind him. "It's time for you to make yours."

"The hell does that mean?"

"It means Tony's the reason I'm here, but you're the only one that can actually do what needs to be done."

"And what exactly needs to be done?"

"A course correct. A shift in the path of the universe to save the universe. Tony's at the center of that, but somehow I'm the one that has the capacity to change that. The capacity to bring things back to center. To save everyone."

Cap stares at him for a long moment, as though trying to read him. "You seem damn sure about that."

"I am."

"So then what exactly is it that you're here to do?"

"Prevent you from making the same mistakes I did."

A series of emotions flicker over the other man's face. Steve sees the moment the light goes on behind his eyes. "You're saying you— you're saying _I_ —"

"I am."

"There's no way. I would never—"

"Not on purpose. But that doesn't mean we aren't some of the most reckless sons of bitches this universe has ever seen."

Cap looks away, his gaze distant. "You're saying that I… that we…."

"Not on purpose."

He shakes his head. "That's not good enough."

Steve can't stop the chuckle. "You sound a lot like someone I know."

Cap turns to look at him, his eyes sharp. "You're serious about all this."

"More serious than I think I've ever been about anything."

Cap stands up a little taller. "Then why don't you just tell me what you did wrong so I can fix it?"

"That was the plan, but you've been avoiding me since I arrived. Hard to tell you what I need to tell you when you refuse to even look me in the eye."

Cap curls his lip up in a snarl. "That's your excuse? You've had plenty of chances when we were meeting as a team to let me know you wanted to talk to me."

"Not without Tony noticing."

That stops the other man short. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Tony's the reason I'm doing this. Tony's the reason for everything. Everything, Steve, you've got to understand that. The reason I'm here, the reason I'm alive… the reason anyone's alive." Steve meets Cap's eyes head-on and says what he hasn't been man enough to ever say before. It's telling that he's speaking the words to a facsimile of the man he was years ago, instead of the man that deserves to hear them most of all. "Tony saved the universe single-handedly, and the only reason he had to do it by himself is that I wasn't brave enough to stand at his side or tell him the truth when he deserved to hear it."

"I have never been anything but honest with Tony. _He's_ the one who—"

"Didn't initially tell you about the Ultron protocol. Believe me, I have thought this over and over enough times to know all the arguments in favor of what I did. What you're doing. But I swear to you, none of them justifies what happens as a result of keeping the secrets you're keeping."

"I told you, I'm not—"

"Aren't you?"

Cap stops short, his mouth open in a clear intent to protest that stops short at Steve's words. "I'm not," he tries again. The words are weaker this time.

Steve just raises his eyebrow.

Cap deflates at that, seeming to understand what Steve means all at once. "I don't know for sure it was him."

"But you have your suspicions, just like I did."

Cap slumps even further. "You're going to have an answer for every argument, aren't you?"

"Like I said, I've had a long time to think. But if you need to hear the arguments, I'm happy to give you them."

"Bucky doesn't deserve that weight."

"He'll take it on regardless."

"He doesn't deserve Tony's anger either."

"You really think Tony will be angry at him for this? For something he couldn't control? You know Tony better than that."

"And Tony?" This seems to be the first point where Cap finds his conviction again. He looks up at Steve, something fierce and broken in his face. "He doesn't deserve to have to relive that over again."

"But he deserves to know the truth. More than anything or anyone else, Tony deserves the truth."

Cap snaps his head up, eyes bright on Steve's face. "What, and you're giving him that?"

Steve's breath stops short in his chest. "No," he answers honestly, "but Tony knows he can't get the whole truth from me. He knows I have secrets to keep. You, on the other hand? You, he thinks he knows."

"How did he even find out?"

Steve meets his eyes head on, letting every year and month and week of pain and distance and separation and _hurt_ show through. "Are you sure you want to know?"

Steve supposes he shouldn't be surprised when his counterpart nods, just once. Sharp and harsh and insistent. But just once.

Steve pulls a lip back in a snarl, feeling all the rage and contempt and self-loathing seep through to his stomach. "He had to watch."

Cap recoils, taking a step back. "What the hell are you—"

"There was a video. One of our enemies used it. Showed it to Tony. Made him watch his parents die. Made him watch Bucky kill—"

Steve isn't surprised to feel a fist around his neck and a wall at his back. "That wasn't Bucky." The sharp hiss of Cap's voice is enough to have Steve closing his eyes against the pain.

"And you think anyone gave Tony time to realize that? Think anyone took the time to help him rationalize it? There was no one in that bunker, Steve, but me and him and Bucky. And if you think for a second I was in a place to choose Tony over Bucky—"

"Because he's _Bucky_!"

Steve closes his eyes. "Yes. He is. He's the man that stood by our side all those years, the one that got us out of every fight, dragged us out of every shithole, had our back before anyone else even knew our name. But Tony? Tony's the kind of person that I would give up everything for. The kind of person I _have_ given everything up for. He's the most important person in the universe, Steve, and you have a chance to spare him the pain I never spared my Tony. And all you have to do is—"

"Tell him Bucky killed his parents."

Steve shrugs. "Pretty much."

Cap shakes his head. "You're insane. You're completely insane if you think I'll jeopardize Bucky's safety like that."

Steve shrugs. "It's a chance at hurting Bucky — and I think we both know Tony better than that — or the certainty that you're going to destroy the universe. Your call."

Cap swallows, his throat working with the motion. He doesn't say anything, just lets his eyes sweep over Steve's shoulder into the dark of the room where Tony is waiting for Steve. "You really believe he won't hurt Bucky. Even if I tell him the truth."

"My Tony wouldn't. I think you know yours wouldn't either."

He closes his eyes and lets Steve down from where he'd been pinning him to the wall. "I'll tell him tomorrow."

Steve nods, melancholy and grateful all at once. "See that you do."

Cap sways toward the room, something aching and wanting in his eyes. Then he looks back at Steve. "Why him?"

Steve frowns. "What?"

"Why Tony?"

Steve feels his throat close up at the honest question. Something would have asked himself at this point in his history. He looks over his shoulder, making out Tony's form in the dark, curled up under the blankets. "I lost him twice. Once through my own ignorance and once…." He shakes his head. "If I can spare any of us that pain, and give Tony what he's always deserved, then I will do everything in my power to make sure I do it." He turns and faces his counterpart. "Everything."

"Then why did you—"

"Could you have denied him? With as much pain as he was in, could you have denied him?"

Cap stares at him, seeming to think on the question. Then he huffs. "No. No, I don't suppose I could have."

Steve nods. "If there's nothing else?"

Cap gives him a knowing look, something that drives deep into Steve's soul and asks him who he is. Who he's willing to be. Who he will be for Tony. Whatever he sees there seems to satisfy him. "No. There's nothing."

"Then I will see you in the morning."

He steps past his counterpart, only to be stopped by a hand on his elbow. "You'll take care of him?"

Steve frowns. "Come again?"

"Tony. You'll take care of him?"

"He's not mine to care for," Steve says slowly.

"You're the one that took him to bed. You're the one that he chose."

"Only because you wouldn't have him. Will you have him now? Now that you know the truth?"

Cap blinks. "Will he have me?"

Steve stares at him, heart in his throat. He knows the truth, knows that Tony might take this, might welcome this man into his bed. But there's a tiny, selfish part of him that doesn't want to tell him that. Doesn't want to give this man the privilege that he himself has never borne.

But then, that isn't fair to Tony, and in the end, isn't that what it's all about?

Steve looks back into the bedroom, heart in his throat. "Yes. I think he will."

Steve doesn't have to look to feel the way Cap lights up at that. "Really?"

"Yeah," Steve says. "Really."

Cap reaches out to him, stopping just short of touching him. "That's… that's good, then. That's good."

Steve nods. He doesn't try to speak around the lump in his throat. There's no point. When his doppelgӓnger doesn't seem to be showing any signs of leaving, Steve gathers himself and turns to face him. "Well, then. I'll just get out of your way."

Cap doesn't say anything to that. There's a thoughtful look on his face, something deep and knowing, but something that Steve doesn't quite know how to parse. So Steve nods at him and turns away from them both.

* * *

Steve sees the shift in the way the two of them move around each other. There's an ease and a grace in Tony that has been there for years that Steve has always envied. A kind of poise that Steve has never been able to achieve. And all at once, that has completely vanished, at least as far as Cap is concerned. Suddenly, Tony is tripping over things and babbling worse than normal, no longer moving through the world as though it was made completely for him. It tugs at something in Steve's chest to watch the way Tony is suddenly so unsure of himself.

Cap, for his part, isn't much better. He keeps slipping out of the room when Tony's there, making himself as small as he can, and avoiding eye contact with both Steve and Tony himself. It's awkward and fumbling and more than Steve can handle. It's all he can do not to shove them in a room together and force them to work it out. He knows it's selfishness that has him holding out from intervening to try to help them. His purpose here isn't to get anyone laid. His purpose here is to keep Tony alive so that he _can_ get laid. 

It's not Steve's place to take that freedom of choice, that right of decision away from him, no matter how obvious it is that this Tony is as desperately in love with his Cap as Steve had been with his Tony. It feels too much like a lost opportunity, like a chance that Steve let slip through his fingers, and for all that he wouldn't be averse to tumbling into bed with this Tony at some point again, he's also not about to stand between Tony and the possibilities he has with his Cap.

So the three of them dance around each other, to the point that everyone in the compound starts vacating any room that has more than one of them in it. It makes things both more and less awkward; less because they can at least laugh about it before they retreat to their respective corners, more because there's still that lingering moment where Steve thinks that maybe something good might come of it.

Something good does come of it eventually. Somewhere between all the hemming and hawing and avoidance, Cap and Tony work out their differences. One morning, the two of them come into the kitchen where Steve's halfway through the newspaper and his morning coffee. Tony's tucked under Cap's arm, his hair sleep-rumpled and the pair of them easy in their skin in a way that Steve hasn't seen in weeks. Neither of them seem to notice him, both going about their business easy as anything before slipping back out of the kitchen. 

Steve doesn't need to look too deep to know that this is the result of the two of them finally realizing how much they really mean to each other. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt like hell.

Steve folds up the newspaper and downs the rest of his coffee in one go. He gets to his feet and makes his way silently to his room. He packs what little he has, checking that the bracelet on his wrist is still fully intact. He turns on his heel, ready to make his way out of the compound, only to find his door blocked by Natasha. He stops short. blinking as he stares at her. "Natasha."

"Steve. Going somewhere?"

"Obviously."

Natasha purses her lips, contemplating him. "Coming back?"

Steve tries to hold her gaze. "Natasha—"

"Fuck that, Steve, you know they don't want you gone any more than the rest of us."

"That's not really your concern, though, is it?"

"Steve. Come on. You said you were here to protect Tony. That doesn't change just because he's with someone else, now, does it?"

"It changes everything, Nat. The whole point was to undo what was done in my timeline. To make sure that the two of them were together, working as a team again to prevent what's coming. I don't see how my being here could be anything but disruptive at this point."

"So you have something more important to take care of?"

Steve shrugs. "I don't know about more important, but it may help keep this from getting any worse. There's one more potential wrench in the works of their relationship, and I'm not about to let that blow up in their faces now that they're together."

Natasha frowns. "What is it?"

"It's not important. Not as long as I can neutralize the threat before he gets to be one."

"Barnes."

Steve knows he shouldn't be surprised, but he is. Nat's always been the master at making people underestimate her, and while Steve's generally not the focus of her misdirection, he's no less susceptible. "Yes."

"You're going alone?"

"No reason to involve anyone else."

"Not even the man you're in love with?"

Steve doesn't dignify that with a response. He just shoulders his way past her and out of the guest quarters, ready to make his way down to the main floor and out of this sham of a life for good.

Cap catches up to him before he can make it to one of Tony's cars. "You know he loves you too."

Steve winces. "Captain—"

"He does. You're the reason we found each other, and we may not know exactly what you came back here to fix, but it's damn clear that whatever it is is bad. If you want to fix it, who's to say that this isn't the way?"

"I can't."

"Why not? You want it. He wants it. I don't mind. Let yourself have this."

"You don't understand."

"What don't I understand?"

"He's not…" _My Tony_. "He already has you. You two have a whole future ahead of you. What would you want with me?"

"You're just as much a part of his life as I am. This is just as much for you as it is for me. You think I don't want this?" Cap's voice has gone sharp. "That I don't want someone else that can keep Tony happy? Someone else that can protect him if things go wrong?"

"You think I wouldn't do that anyway?"

"I know you would. That's not the point. The point is that he wants this, and I'm just as weak to Tony's whims as you are."

Steve shakes his head. "I can't be that person for him. Not now. Not this time."

"I'm telling you, you can. All you have to do is accept my offer."

"And I'm telling you, I don't want what you're offering me. What I want isn't something you can give."

"What's that?"

_I want my Tony back. I want his life to be returned to him. I was his life to be his. I want this to be over._ "I can't tell you."

Cap frowns, his mind clearly rifling through possibilities as he parses Steve's expression. "Is it why you came back?"

"Yes." Steve winces at the frankness in his own tone, but stands his ground. "Yes, it is."

Cap nods. "And you think denying yourself this is the way to make yourself whole?"

"I think I may never be whole again."

Cap's face goes pale and stricken. "What did you lose?"

Steve raises an eyebrow, daring him not to understand when Steve's laid it out for him so plainly. Cap takes a sharp breath, pulling back and shaking his head.

"No."

Steve shrugs, an admission and a damnation in the same motion.

" _No_."

"You can draw your own conclusions. I'm not going to tell you anything else."

Cap shakes his head, disbelief on his face. "You can't be serious."

"You know me just as well as I know you. You know there are very few things that I would tear the world apart for. Bucky's one of them. Tony's the other."

Cap shakes his head. "How?"

"He's right about a lot more than you've given him credit for. There are things coming, terrible things, and we need to be doing whatever it takes to keep the planet safe from them. That means Tony needs to be creating whatever he can think of to _keep_ us safe in the meantime."

"Obviously." Steve doesn't flinch at the word, but he can feel his shoulders go tense. Cap stays quiet for a moment before he says anything more. "You didn't let him, did you?"

Steve swallows. "It's more complicated than that."

"No," Cap says, seeing through to Steve's core. "No, it isn't. Either you let him and he did it with your help, or you didn't let him and he did it behind your back anyway."

Steve closes his eyes, the reality of Cap's words cutting him to the quick. "Yes," he says slowly. "Yes, I suppose that's true."

Cap takes a step closer to him, hands half raised as though to shake Steve, his whole body tense. "What happened?"

"Aliens. One alien, really. One alien with an army."

"Loki."

The laugh that bursts from Steve's chest is hollow and aching and terrible. "No. No, the enemy killed Loki long before he ever set foot on Earth. Killed him right in front of Thor." Cap sucks in a sharp breath, and Steve can feel his apprehension resonate through the room. "Took Loki before he could do a damned thing to help us save the universe." 

Cap blessedly doesn't comment on that, and Steve barrels ahead in the silence. "No, Thanos came to take everything away from us, and he didn't think twice about any of it. He nabbed Tony while he was trying to get the Time Stone, killed Vision to get the Mind Stone, and then wiped out half of all sentient life in the universe like he was just taking out the garbage. So you tell me what the hell you think having this is going to do to stop that. I'm not giving myself that just for him to take out everything I've ever cared about before I have a chance to take him down myself."

Cap doesn't say anything. Before Steve can register that that's something to worry about, he feels eyes on the back of his neck. Tony's eyes.

"That's the whole point, Steve. You're not taking him out alone anymore. We're taking him out together." Steve closes his eyes against the cautious hope in Tony's voice. Tony's known this was coming for years. He understands what the cost is going to be better than anyone besides Steve. "We do whatever it takes to get rid of him. To keep the planet safe."

Steve turns to face Tony. "And if we aren't strong enough?"

Tony crosses the garage faster than Steve has ever seen him move out of the suit. He reaches up, one hand curling over the back of Steve's neck. He tugs Steve down until their lips are a breath apart before he speaks. "We will be, Steve. We are."

Steve swallows down a whimper. "How do you know?"

"I don't." Tony's lips brush against Steve's and Steve closes his eyes, anchoring himself to the sound of Tony's voice. "But I know we have one thing you didn't the first time you fought him."

"What's that?"

"Someone that knows what to expect. Someone that knows his weaknesses. Someone that can make all the difference." Tony kisses Steve's lips chastely, and Steve can feel the way he's trembling with the weight of this gamble. "You, Steve. We have you."

Steve closes his eyes and leans into Tony's certainty. It isn't much, and it doesn't quite heal the ache in his soul, but it's enough to have him hoping. Enough to have him leaning into Tony's kiss. Enough to have him wondering if maybe, just maybe, this might be enough.

But he knows better than that.

"I can't, Tony. There are still things that need fixing before we can do anything more. Anything important."

"Steve—"

"I have to fix this, Tony. I have to. That's not going to change just because you invite me into your bed. There are forces at play that I need to neutralize if you're going to be prepared to face what's coming."

"You don't have to do that alone."

"I do, Tony. I really do."

Cap steps forward, pulling Tony under his arm and away from Steve. "You're going after him, aren't you?"

Steve looks away.

"I know you think you have to do this alone, but you don't. This is our world, our timeline, and you don't get to dictate what we do and don't get to be involved in. If you're going after him, there's no reason we can't come with you to back you up."

"Except he's not coming home with me."

Tony's eyes go wide. Cap steps in front of him, as though to protect him from a threat. "You're planning on taking him out? By yourself?"

Steve blinks, understanding all at once what they think he means. "No. I'm taking him to—" He cuts himself off before he can reveal too much. "I'm taking him somewhere that he can get help. Somewhere that can get rid of all the Hydra programming so that he can be himself again."

The tension goes out of Cap's shoulders, and he nods. "You know a place."

"I do."

"Do you need my help?" Tony asks.

Steve blinks. "With what?"

"The deprogramming. I have some software in development to help patients dealing with PTSD and other traumatic experiences. I can push R&D a little harder if you think it might help."

Steve opens his mouth to decline but stops short, wondering all at once if this is something that had happened in his timeline. If Tony had reached out to Shuri and offered his tech to help heal Bucky. It would be so like him, such a Tony thing to do, that Steve can't help but laugh at himself. "Thanks, Tony. I'll check with the person that'll be working with him, but I have a feeling they'll appreciate the assist."

Tony nods, looking content with that answer. He takes Cap by the wrist, pulling him back and away from Steve. Cap glances back at Tony, still looking a bit skeptical, but allowing himself to be pulled away. "Just don't do anything too stupid."

Steve smiles, his heart tugging in a way he refuses to acknowledge, because this time he is, in fact, taking all the stupid with him. Cap's got Tony, and they'll look out for each other.

For his part, Steve only has himself to blame and himself to look out for. He needs to do this, not just for Tony but for himself too. He needs to make sure that Bucky is safe, that he won't come looking for Tony when Zemo or someone else comes to fiddle with Bucky's programming. Steve has a hell of an internal map of the places that Bucky had gone over the years between DC and the UN bombing, and the memory to assure him that he's got it exactly right. So he nods at the pair of them, steps over to take one of Tony's many, many cars, and zips off into the mid-morning sunshine. He'd never intended to escape under cover of darkness, but something in him had thought that might be where he was headed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, I come bearing angst. Enjoy?

Knowing that he's leaving in broad daylight, with the blessing and support of the man he loves, is a much better outcome than he could have expected three days ago. Better than he could have expected even three hours ago.

Steve makes his way to the airport and across the Atlantic, and finds his way to one of Bucky's many boltholes. He waits outside the tiny apartment, present enough for Bucky to know that he's there, but unobtrusive enough to make it clear he isn't here to take Bucky against his will. It takes three days of staking out the building before Bucky finally comes and flops down on the ground next to him.

"You're not Steve."

"I'm not your Steve."

Bucky nods like that makes sense. "What's your story, then?"

"I'm a time traveler."

Bucky blinks. That seems to take him by surprise. "Huh."

"Yup."

Bucky turns away to look out across the street in front of them. "You're not here to stop me or take me in. You're too reckless not to have tried it already if you were. That, or you're hoping that being obvious will lure me out better than being discreet, in which case you are absolutely correct."

The hint of sass has Steve throwing his head back to laugh. "God, I've missed you."

Bucky turns to look at him. "Yeah? How long's it been?"

"No idea," Steve says with a shrug. "Been time traveling, trying to fix my mistakes for too long, I guess. Time stopped meaning much of anything a while ago."

"But you haven't aged a day."

Steve opens his mouth to reply, only to stop short. It's an element of this whole thing that he hasn't let himself consider. It's too close to the heart of everything to let him look too closely at it. He looks away, lifting his shoulder in another shrug. "So it would seem."

Bucky rolls his eyes, punching Steve in the arm. "Don't get your pretty head turned all upside down. Whatever it is that you're trying to do must be worth it if the universe isn't letting you age."

Steve's stomach twists, but he manages a grin for Bucky's sake. "Guess so."

"So then if you're here to fix something, what are you doing _here_? Coming to see me?"

"I may not be able to give everyone the future I want them to have, but I can give you the future I know you deserve."

"Steve. You know I don't deserve much of anything at this point. Not after everything I've done."

"None of that was you. We both know that. That was all Hydra controlling you to follow their whims. You don't need to let that define you. That wasn't you. None of it was you."

"I'm the one that killed them, Stevie, and we both know someone could come along and make me do it again easy as anything."

"I know. But I know people that can get all that programming out of your head."

That has Bucky looking up at him curiously. "That so?"

Steve nods. "It might take some convincing, but she did it in my timeline, and she can do it for you now."

Bucky tilts his head to the side, searching Steve's face, though for what Steve can't be certain. "You found someone."

"What?"

"A lover. You found someone."

Steve looks away. "Bucky—"

"You don't have to tell me any of it, Stevie. I don't need to know. But I'm glad you found someone, even after I left you."

Steve shakes his head. "I don't have anyone."

"Now that's a lie and we both know it."

Steve huffs out a breath. "Fine. There's someone. But they don't see me that way."

"Well, then, that's their problem. You're a hell of a catch, Steve. You should know that by now."

Steve laughs dutifully. He isn't quite sure how to tell Bucky that he was rejected for another version of himself. That he fought back and refused to be with them even when they offered. That none of it matters because even if he'd been with this Tony, he wouldn't be _Steve's_ Tony, and that's what it was all about at the end of the day. That's the man he really wants. And that man is dead and gone.

"I'm serious, Steve."

"I know. But that's not why I'm here." He turns and looks at Bucky, sizing him up. "So, what do you say? Want to get all that nasty programming out of your head?"

Bucky frowns, still searching Steve's face for something. Not finding it, he lifts his shoulder in a shrug. "Sure. Why the hell not."

* * *

Steve is based out of Wakanda for as long as T'Chaka will let him be. The man is as magnanimous as his son, if a bit more rigid. Steve does his best to keep out of his way, only taking as much time and space as he needs to do what he must to keep Bucky and Tony safe. 

He runs most of the recon missions he needs to to prevent the Accords from happening, makes sure to get Wanda and Pietro to the places they can do the most good. It isn't easy trying to convince them that Tony isn't the murderer they believe him to be, and it's even harder trying to convince himself that he needs to take them back to the compound to meet Tony, in order to help them understand fully. But he does, bringing them to Tony and Cap as a peace offering for his return. A reminder of why they fight.

It's strange to live in a world where both of the twins live, but that lacks Vision. It's not the world he knows, not the one he came to accept, but it is the one he's living in now. He can't help but wonder how this will change things when Thanos comes.

Because Thanos will come. Steve has no doubt about that.

Tony tries again to convince him to stay at the compound. Cap stands stoically at his shoulder as though already knowing the outcome of this argument. He stays and he watches and Steve tries not to let that get under his skin. He declines Tony's insistence as politely as he can. This isn't his place. It never was.

Steve keeps to the fringes of society for the next few years. Listens to whispers of what would have been the Accords. Finds ways to keep them locked down. He waits and he listens and as the day grows nearer, he grows more and more tense. He stays stateside more than he has in years, waiting for the day Bruce comes crashing through the stratosphere like some sort of harbinger of death.

He's not disappointed. He's in New York when it happens, when the monsters come and try to take Tony away from him. From all of them. He tries desperately to get to the center of the disaster, tries desperately to get to somewhere that he can help Tony beyond what his fists can do. He just needs to get there.

Cap's there with him, and Steve isn't sure if he's grateful or angry. Grateful that he stood firm at Tony's side, angry that he'd even let the man come out to face this. There's no time to argue, though. There's only time to fight and try to win and watch alongside Cap as Tony disappears into the stratosphere all over again.

"Fuck."

Cap snorts. "You've got that right." He sighs. "Come on. We should get back to the compound."

There's no Mind Stone here on Earth to bring them back, no reason to think that Thanos might be returning with his army. But if they can get to Tony, then maybe they can do something about this.

It's a question for T'Chaka, but Steve knows he's worn out his welcome there. If not for T'Chaka, then for Carol, but he knows her well enough to know she won't come knocking down their door without Fury's say so, and he doesn't think the director is too fond of him right now. Not with the way he's been getting in his way every time he tries to get his people in place to move forward on the nascent Accords. Which means there's no way they're getting Tony home anytime soon.

"Have we heard from Thor?"

Cap frowns at him. "Why is that relevant?"

"He has the Mind Stone, doesn't he? Thanos will be going after him."

"Why do you think I'm here?" Bruce snaps. "I told Tony, he already came and took the Mind Stone." Bruce stops short, frowning up at Steve like he's only just realizing what he's seeing. He opens his mouth, then closes it and shakes his head. "You know what? I don't even want to know."

Steve suppresses the urge to smile at that. That's Bruce in a nutshell, rolling with the punches. He steps past Bruce into the compound, heading to the makeshift war room on the second floor. Cap and Bruce follow, though Steve can tell that Cap's irritated with him about the whole thing. Not that Steve cares. The man lost Tony; Steve's just here to clean up his messes.

"Alright, what's the plan, then?"

"Plan?" Cap asks.

"To get Tony back. What's the plan?"

Cap blinks at him. "You're telling me you don't know how to get him back."

Steve shrugs. "In my timeline we still had the Mind Stone on Earth, and Thanos wasn't so much trying to get the last Stone as trying to get one of the Stones. He came back after he got the Time Stone to try to get the Mind Stone."

Cap stares at him as though trying to parse all of that. "And he brought Tony back with him?"

Steve hesitates, trying not to give away too much. "It's a little more complicated than that."

"Then uncomplicate it."

Steve shakes his head. "There's too many variables here. I can't be sure we're not going to fuck things up even worse."

Cap glares at him. He turns away eventually, stripping off his gloves as he does. Steve catches sight of the band on his ring finger and his whole body goes taut. He stares down at it as though seeing it through a thick glass wall. There's no way. There's no _way_ that's what he thinks it is.

"You're married?" he croaks.

Cap glances down at his finger, his face softening at the sight. "Yes." He looks up at Steve. "A few months ago now. It was all over the papers."

Steve looks away at the implication. "Not the kind of papers I was interested in."

Cap hums and goes on stripping out of the unnecessary components of his uniform. "So we need to figure out our next step."

Steve nods. "There's a chance we might be able to make contact with someone that could help, but she's a ways out, and it'll take her a while to find them regardless. There's plenty for us to do here in the meantime, but looking for Tony should be our first priority."

"You don't know where he is?"

"I know where he is. I also know that we don't have the technology or capacity to reach him right now."

Cap's lips thin. "Then what do we need to do in the meantime?"

"Come up with a plan for how to stop Thanos if he comes."

"Seems like too little too late."

Steve grits his teeth. "Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is that this is our best shot at bringing Tony home safe and in one piece. Finding a way to get to him before we lose him completely. Get Fury on the phone. I need to talk to him."

Cap rolls his eyes at the order but reaches for his phone regardless. It takes the better part of the day for Cap to get a hold of him, and Steve can't say that doesn't piss him off. Bruce works on trying to make contact with Thor, and for his part, Steve just… waits. He waits and tries not to think about all the time they're wasting that he could spend working on bringing Tony home if he just knew how. When Fury does answer Cap's call, he refuses to use the beeper to call for Carol. Steve can't really say he's surprised, but he can say he's absolutely livid.

Before Steve can get into it with the man, though, there's a sudden sharp pressure in his chest, followed in quick succession by a hollow, aching burn down his right arm. He stares down at his hand in shock, trying to parse the signals he knows his body is sending to him, but he can't, he can't, he—

"No."

A portal opens up three feet to Steve's left, and it would be an aching reminder of a time long past, if not for what he knows is coming through the portal.

Strange, with Tony in his arms, Peter and the Guardians following behind him.

Steve can't stop the whimper that falls from his lips. He beats Cap across the room, careful of Tony's burnt and broken arm as he takes him from Strange's grip. Tony shifts in his arms, turning toward him with that same glassy stare. Steve can barely keep meeting his eyes as he books it toward the medical wing. He may not be able to save Tony, but he can at last give him somewhere comfortable to live his last moments.

Cap follows him in, elbowing him aside to get to Tony. Steve doesn't stand in their way. He knows what this must look like to someone that loves Tony the way he knows Cap does. Someone that's had Tony the way Cap has had him. There's still so much unknown about all of this, so much still aching and pressing in at the edges of everything. Steve doesn't get to have this moment. It belongs to Cap and Tony.

He waits in the doorway, listening to Cap beg Tony to stay. Listening to the desperation in his voice. This isn't going to be an easy bridge to cross, but he will cross it. He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the door jamb, trying not to let his heart break the way it wants to. He'd have thought he'd be immune to that by now. Apparently not.

He closes his eyes as the rattling in Tony's chest gets worse and worse, thicker with the blood that's no doubt filling his lungs. It hurts the way losing him the first time didn't. If he hadn't already made sure to see every other mission through to the end, he'd have been long gone by now. But he owes it to this Tony, just as he owed it to every Tony that came before, to stay with him until his very last breath.

When that last breath rattles out of Tony's chest, Steve can feel it down to his marrow. He knows what it is to lose Tony, has known it for decades, but each one hurts just as much as the last. It's not right, seeing Tony so lost and distraught and broken and _dying_ when what he should be is filled with life. He's a beacon of light and hope, of everything that Steve has always known he was even when he couldn't acknowledge it himself, and there's something to be said for watching him die over and over and over again that means so much more than he could ever have imagined.

Hurts a lot more too.

Steve hears Cap get to his feet in the room, and he straightens up a little, trying to prepare for whatever judgment is coming.

"You knew."

Steve would have been able to handle it if Cap had come at him with rage, with anger, with every last fiber of his soul aflame with hatred. But this cold disillusioned disappointment is worse.

"That's why you came back. Why you pushed him away so damn hard. Why you did all of this. You knew he was going to die."

Steve closes his eyes. "Yes."

Cap punches him in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. Steve doesn't even try to counter it. He may not have spent the last four years watching the two of them grow closer, watching their bond grow stronger, but he knows how much Tony meant to Cap, knows how much Cap had meant to Tony in turn. Steve knows that he would have been welcome in their bed, but knows too that joining them would have left him all the more gutted right now.

Just like the man above him.

Cap's eyes go wide. "You're going to do it again, aren't you?"

Steve doesn't bother denying it.

"Take me with you."

That startles Steve. "What?"

"Take me with you. If you're not enough to save him alone, maybe the two of us will be enough."

"I can't do that." The words leave Steve's mouth before he can even parse their meaning, but the second they pass his lips he knows they're true.

"Why the hell not?"

Steve shrugs. "It's the Stones' will, not mine."

Cap grabs Steve by the collar, hauling him up to his feet. "Save the bullshit. What do I have to do?"

Steve shakes his head. "You take the Stones back. In fact—" Steve turns and extends his hand toward the Gauntlet where it rests on Tony's still form. His own Gauntlet forms over his hand to pull the other five Stones from their place on Tony's Gauntlet. With a thought, he scatters them to the edges of reality where they belong, finding their place in this new world that exists for them. The world bends and buckles around him but doesn't break, folding to his whim without giving in. Reality presses at the edges of Steve's awareness, trying to tell him something. The slight brush of knowing is enough to have him backing away, though, enough to have him turning away and refusing the call. He will return the Stones to their places in the universe — the multiverse, now — and he won't let another version of himself make the same mistake.

Cap shoves him to the ground, disgust on his features. "What gives you the right to decide what happens to Tony?"

Steve opens his mouth, knowing the words that are about to pass them aren't his. "Because I was the first."

"What the hell does that even mean?"

Steve smiles, brittle and broken. "I've lived more lifetimes than you can even imagine, and I will live countless more to keep Tony safe. You don't have that right. You had him. I never did. You don't get to tell me what to do, because I'm the one that has suffered in silence for decades. Tony's salvation will be at my hand, not yours."

Cap shakes his head. "You disgust me."

Steve shrugs. "So be it. This isn't your call to make." He turns his thoughts to his Stones, closing his eyes as he thinks through what this all could be. There's potential and a twisting, insidious darkness that he could address, or he could just let it lie.

He can't.

"See to it that he's commemorated appropriately."

"I would have even if you didn't ask me to."

Steve nods. "Good." Then he closes his eyes, wraps the timeline around his shoulders, and falls back to the beginning.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly just sadness and badness. I almost put another lifetime in this chapter, but that felt like overkill. Get it? Overkill?
> 
> ... I'll see myself out.

The Stones take him back to the Battle of New York. The sounds and chaos of the battle are familiar enough, close enough that Steve knows exactly where he is, knows exactly what to do. He makes his way back to the Tower to try to get to the device sooner. For all that he knows the team has this covered, he also can't help but feel that pull toward the central point of everything. The center of the battle. The point of no return.

Besides, won't it be something to see Tony fly that damn nuke up through the wormhole from so much closer?

He helps with the evacuation of what little staff is still left in the Tower, and makes his way up to the highest floors. To the landing pad, and then higher again to where the device is still punching a hole in the sky. It shouldn't be so strange to see it up close; God knows he helped dismantle the damn thing before Rumlow and the rest of his cronies packed it up and took it away. It is, though. It had been deactivated by the time he got to it the first time around. Now it's running at full power, ready to drive New York to ruins. His first home, his truest home, laid to waste by powers beyond his comprehension.

This close to the device, Steve knows he needs to be sure not to fuck anything up just in case he accidentally prevents Tony from getting the nuke through the wormhole. He taps the comms in his ear and pulls just enough power from the Reality Stone, still warm from their trip here, into the device to patch him through to the team's comms. Just so he knows what's going on. Just so he can stay on his toes.

It has nothing to do with hearing Tony's voice in his ear again.

Steve stays out of Nat's way, keeping to the edges of the level. Something in the back of his mind is whispering about JARVIS, about getting him into Steve's comms, or at least downloading as much of his interface as he can. Steve forces the thoughts away, too focused on the way Natasha is already piercing the bubble of energy around the Tesseract. He listens as Tony yells through the comms about the nuke, as his counterpart — idiot that he is — warns Tony that it's a one-way trip.

Steve tries not to hear the longing in his counterpart's voice. He fails.

Steve takes half a breath to revel in what they could have been, what they could have done, what could have happened if he'd loved Tony just a little bit more. If he'd loved his history just a little bit less. Then he opens his eyes and rushes back into the tower, pulling up one of Tony's interfaces with JARVIS, suddenly understanding exactly what his mind had been trying to tell him. He connects the interface to Tony's HUD so he can see what Tony sees.

As the interface pulls up, Steve's breath catches in his chest, hope and want warring in his heart. He wants so badly to see what's out there, to see what Tony sees, and as he stares out into space through Tony's eyes, he finds himself sinking into that same sort of wonder he'd felt so many years ago when he'd last ventured into space. He stares out at its vastness and watches the way the stars stare back at him. For all that wonder, though, he can almost feel the oppressive, cloying nature of the deep blackness of space. The way it would have destroyed Tony if not for the grace of good timing.

Steve forces himself to ignore all that, forces himself to look a little closer and remember everything about the damn ship that's out there in the middle of nowhere, sending everything they have at them. He catalogues weaknesses and potential footholds and anything else that might help him destroy Thanos a little sooner in this timeline. Because this time around, they're going to get it right.

Still, Steve counts the time between the moment Tony disappears and the moment his other self will call for Natasha to—

"Close it."

Steve's heart stops. It's too soon. It's _too soon_ and Steve should damn well know. He's replayed this moment in his mind countless times, watched and waited and listened and _remembered_ the way it had felt to count the seconds, the breaths, the heartbeats between losing Tony and getting him back. He knows this moment better than almost any other, and his damn other self down there called it too soon.

But that's impossible. Steve didn't even interact with them, how could that have changed? It can't— it _can't_ —

Steve rushes out onto the deck again to see the portal close and stares up, _praying_ that what he thinks happened didn't just happen. But it did and there's no way around it, whether human or alien.

The other him closed the portal too soon and Tony's—

Tony's _dead_.

Tony's dead eleven years sooner than he should be. And, God, what does it say about him that he knows when Tony _should_ die? What does it say that the last half dozen times he's done this Tony's died too soon? But it doesn't matter, does it; Tony's dead dead _dead_.

Dead in the water or dead in the air or dead in fucking _space_ but it doesn't matter because Tony's _dead_.

"That son of a bitch."

He isn't quite sure how he makes it out of the tower and back down to ground level, only that the next thing he knows he's got one fist in his doppelgӓnger's uniform and the other in his face. He's not even thinking coherently, not even processing what's happening, only that he's beating the crap out of his counterpart because the son of a bitch just killed Tony. It's a horrible reminder of the fact that Steve himself had contributed to his Tony's death in his first timeline, but it doesn't matter he doesn't care it _doesn't matter_.

It's Hulk that pulls him off of his counterpart, and Steve almost lays into him too before he remembers that Bruce will feel the loss almost as acutely as Steve himself. So he steps away, shakes his head, and reaches for the Stones at his wrist. Fuck this timeline. Fuck this timeline and the version of himself that thought he was above waiting too long.

They can all burn.

* * *

He opens his eyes to find himself on the helicarrier. It's not the strangest place he's landed after a trip with the Stones, but it's right up there. He's in a dark room that even his enhanced vision can't seem to make heads or tails of and it's not until he hears the whisper-soft footsteps, which he recognizes as his counterpart's that he realizes where he must be.

He gets as close to his counterpart as he dares, following him out of the Phase Two armory and into the main ship. He stays far enough behind that Cap doesn't notice him, but close enough that he can hopefully stave off what's coming.

He stays outside the room while Tony and Fury get into it, forgetting until too late that Natasha and Thor are on their way up. Nat grabs him by the elbow and thrusts him into the center of the lab. He doesn't resist, too startled to do so. With all eyes on him, Steve can't help but feel like this is the moment of truth, the moment for him to look deep into the potential his team had and try to make it a little less potential and a little more real.

Fury's got a gun on him before he can do much more than get his balance back. "Director."

"Intruder."

Steve bites his lip on a chuckle. "If you say so, sir."

"Come again?"

"You're the ones that dragged me out of the water. I daresay you were intruding on me a lot more than I was intruding on you."

Fury narrows eyes. "That so, huh?"

"Yup." Steve lets the "p" pop off his lips. Fury moves his weapon a little closer. Steve doesn't let it phase him. "You wanna tell them _exactly_ what Phase Two was? Or do you want me to tell you exactly why it's so interesting that Phase Two is in place at all. Both are very interesting answers."

Fury doesn't hesitate. "You get this man out of my sight, Agent Romanoff. I don't want to see him again unless it's in handcuffs."

"You sure you want that particular fight in this lab?"

"You think it's gonna be much of a fight?" Natasha asks.

Steve grins at her over his shoulder. " _I've trained with you enough, Widow,_ " he says in Russian. " _I think I know how to hold my own._ "

Nat's eyes widen ever so slightly, but she doesn't say anything at all. Even that small tell would have been unidentifiable to most. Steve wonders if she knows that he caught it. She probably does. She makes the slightest move toward him and he responds in kind, knowing he might have to dodge a bullet from Fury's gun as well as a strike from the lethal Black Widow who isn't yet his friend Natasha. It might almost be enough to worry him if he didn't know that Cap and Tony were about to interrupt with their own impatience.

"That tells us exactly nothing about why you're using the Tesseract to make weapons."

Steve grins at the sass in his counterpart's voice. It's nice to hear someone else stand up to Fury for being the righteous asshole he is. Fury responds in kind, citing Thor as the cause of the increased focus on weaponry. Steve knows there's more to it than that, but he doesn't see much reason to point that out right now. He just stands there and glowers and tries to forget the way everyone is about to absolutely lose their shit.

Because they do.

When the shouting and accusations start, Steve tries to maintain some sense of composure. He tries not to succumb to the thrall of the scepter. Then Cap starts in on Tony and Steve knows he's a goner.

There's something intensely satisfying about getting his fist in Cap's face before he can get going on his diatribe. The word _armor_ hasn't even passed his lips before Steve's fist connects with Cap's cheek. Cap staggers, eyes wide as he stares up at Steve.

"The fuck are you doing?" Cap hisses.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Steve spits out. He can feel the bubble of rage in his chest — the staff, it has to be Loki's staff — but he doesn't give a damn about it. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Cap stares at him, eyes wide and stunned. Before Steve can get his balance back, Tony shoves him to the ground too fast for him to recover.

"I don't need a fucking white knight," Tony snaps back. "I can take care of myself."

Steve hauls himself back to his feet, ready to get up in Tony's face. Tony's face is hard and firm, sharp and frustrated, and Steve wants to snap back, wants to bite that expression off of Tony's face, whatever it takes to get what he wants out of Tony which is—

What? What is it that he wants out of Tony?

The question jars him out of his blue-coated rage and gives him an instant to wonder what part of this is him and what part is Loki, but not enough time to block the hand that Tony slings onto his shoulder. There's a blur of words — Thor and Fury, Bruce and Nat, it's too much, _too much_ — and he can't take more than a split second to take a breath, to take a moment to understand what's going on before the whole world is shifting on its axis.

Oh. The helicarrier.

It's chaos all around them, the whole world too much of a bustle and disaster around him, and all Steve can do is reach for Tony and haul him to his feet. Tony shrugs him off, but Steve's already sprinting down the hall ahead of him.

"How do you know where the engine is?"

"Been here before," Steve manages, breath coming in a huff.

Tony doesn't say anything to that, but Steve can almost feel the confusion from the man behind him.

"Come on. You need your armor and I need to get to that control panel." Steve's off and running before Tony can say anything to that, letting his feet carry him down the familiar path to the engine. He's already on the ledge, pulling the panel out when Tony arrives.

"What've we got?"

Steve waits for a brief moment, aligning what he's seeing with what he remembers. The quip is there on the back of his tongue, but there's no way he's going to be able to get it out. Not with his rage still simmering beneath his skin. "Give me two minutes."

Tony's silent for a moment, brain clearly moving a thousand miles an hour. "Copy that, Cap." There's a tension in Tony's voice when he finally speaks, something cautious and heavy that twists in Steve's stomach. But then he's darting away into the heart of the engine, and Steve's got nothing left but to rely on the memory of what had come some long before.

It isn't until one of Loki's captives shoots at him that he realizes he didn't convince his counterpart to come with them. That means—

"Fuck."

That means he's going to have to fight them off just like he did the first time.

Steve works as fast as his hands will let him, fingers moving swift and deft through the cables and fiber optics. He can hear Tony muttering instructions as he works, and Steve listens with half an ear even as he alternates between working on the control panel and fending off their attackers. He fights the way he did the first time, fending off whatever— _whoever_ he can.

So when his feet slip and he falls from the side of the helicarrier, Steve's heart almost stops.

For an instant, when his hands grasp at the cable that's the only thing left tethering him to safety, Steve wonders if it's his turn to die this time around. But then it's "Cap, hit the lever," and he has no choice.

"I need a minute here," he chokes out regardless, but he hauls himself up the cable with every ounce of strength in his body.

"Lever," and how had Steve never heard the tension and anxiety and bone-deep _fear_ in Tony's voice the first time? "Now."

He gets his fingers in the grate, his body protesting every step of the way just in time to hear—

"Uh oh."

At that, Steve's heart actually does stop. He tries to haul himself to his feet, tries to get up, but there's gunfire over his head and fear in his chest and he can't— he can't— he _has to_ —

He reaches up and hauls the lever down with the last of his strength, and listens for the sound of Tony's repulsors.

They don't come.

Steve waits and waits and waits, his heart making up for its momentary pause by working double time for the next few moments. He doesn't dare look over the side of the helicarrier, because he doesn't think he has the strength to watch what he knows is happening below.

Tony is falling to his death.

Steve's throat goes tight, and for a second he considers diving after Tony. It might be a fitting end after so long chasing a dream. If Tony's down there, dead and gone — God, Steve hopes he dies on impact and not — oh, that's somehow even more terrible a thought than he'd realized, but — then there's nothing left here for Steve.

He clutches one hand to his mouth, trying to swallow down the rage and grief and bile. God, what has he done? He's killed Tony prematurely, doomed the earth to an early destruction, maybe even worse. With so many Stones on Earth and the planet so soon to be under Thanos' thumb, how can Steve ever hope to undo this?

He can't. It can't be undone. A wrong breath, a misstep, whatever it is that he's done that's brought them to this moment is almost worse than everything that came before. It isn't actually the worst moment in his life — losing Tony the first time will always take the cake there — but this is a damn close contender.

What has he done?

* * *

Steve doesn't bother going to the debriefing. He knows Fury will still try to rally the troops, will still do whatever he can to save New York. He knows it won't be enough.

For a brief moment, he considers using the Reality Stone to break his way into one of Tony's backup suits just long enough to get the nuke into outer space. The suits are coded only to Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy right now, and Steve isn't coder enough to break through Tony's algorithmic defenses. But with the Stone…

No. That would be even more cruel than what he's already brought down on this reality's head. There's still so much more he would need to do to bring it safely through to the inevitable conclusion that it has in store. Without Tony here, Steve doesn't see the point. They're doomed already. Why try to delay that any longer than necessary? There's no point. No reason. None of it matters anyway.

So he glares down at the world beneath him and damns it all to hell. They don't deserve his penance anyway.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here have an early chapter because i hate fascism

Steve still feels brittle and angry in all the ways he's learned losing Tony can make him. This is almost worse, though, because these last two times it's been obvious that the loss is his fault entirely. His fault for intervening in the past, his fault for being too slow. His doppelgӓnger's fault for closing the damn portal too soon. He can't control what his other half does, can't make the man understand any better than he himself did the first time around, but damn if he won’t try. 

He just wants to keep Tony safe. Just wants him to live, to have the life he deserves. That's all he wants. That's all.

The ride is rocky this time, the Stones fighting him every inch of the way. Steve can feel their resistance in his every move, every tug against the fabric of time and reality. But they give in the end, releasing him into 2012. There's chaos all around him, but it's dark out, meaning this can't be the Battle of New York. He casts around for some indication of what's going on, of where he is and what he's meant to be doing here. How he's going to get to Tony. Then he sees Loki walking down the stairs in all his self-righteous glory, and he understands.

Stuttgart.

Steve can't remember the last time he wished he had a shield this badly. Regardless, he prepares himself to take Loki out on his own, unwilling to leave the madman to his counterpart's care. He steps into the midst of all the chaos, moving as close to Loki as he can, doing his damnedest to stay discreet as he moves through the crowd. He waits until the last possible moment to drop to his knees at Loki's command, still searching for a way to keep this fight minimized in the event that his counterpart is too slow.

Unlike previous times when he's been too fast.

Steve keeps eyes and ears open, ready and waiting for whatever is about to come. He hears his doppelӓnger coming before he sees him, too attuned to the particular resonance that vibranium gives off to miss it. He watches his past self stand up to Loki — pretentious, self-righteous, the pair of them — but when fists start to fly, Steve isn't above getting in the middle of this in an attempt to end it faster.

Cap barely acknowledges him, no doubt too overwhelmed by everything to internalize how utterly bizarre it should be to see another version of himself fighting alongside him. The two of them do their damnedest to take down Loki, but Steve can't help but be a little grateful when he hears Tony's music come blasting through the air as he cruises down toward them. Between the three of them, they have Loki cut down to size in a matter of moments.

Loki lifts his hands in surrender, the illusion dropping as he does so, and Steve tries not to relax too obviously. This, though… this is movement in the right direction.

"Mister Stark."

"Captain."

Steve closes his eyes at the formality in the exchange. He tries to remember what it was like not knowing Tony as well as he knows his own bones. He can't.

"Who's your friend?" Tony asks.

That seems to be enough to get Cap's attention on Steve. "Figured he was one of yours."

"Nah," Tony says, and Steve can hear the smirk behind the faceplate. "Mine are much better looking."

Steve can't stop the laugh at the familiar ribbing. "Fuck you too, Tony."

The name seems to catch Tony off-guard, and he startles. "Come again?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "I've seen your robots, mister. We both know they're not going to win any beauty contests."

"Excuse you, Butterfingers and U may never have been the prettiest to look at, but DUM-E was a specimen in his prime."

"And now?"

Tony blusters, and Steve starts laughing again, the sound as easy as breathing when Tony's alive at his side.

"Would both of you put a lid on it and take this seriously? We need to get Loki up to the transport and back stateside."

Steve rolls his eyes at his counterpart. "The three of us have got this handled. There's nothing to worry about."

"And you would know this how?"

"Because this isn't my first time at this rodeo."

That stops Tony short. "What does that mean?"

Steve hadn't meant to show his hand this soon. Still, no point trying to hide it now that he's said it. "I'm a time traveler."

Tony goes tellingly silent but Cap rolls his eyes. "So am I."

"Yeah, but you did it accidentally. I'm here on purpose."

"Why?" Tony's voice is thin and reedy even through the suit's speakers. He clears his throat. "Why here? Why now?"

Steve looks over at Tony intently, giving the man all his focus. "Because there are things I need to make right, and this is the time to do it."

Steve wouldn't think that throwing Tony a curveball like that would be enough to get him in trouble, normally. But he's failed to take into account that this is a Loki still beaten and burnt from his recent altercation with Thor and Odin. He must be way more raw than Steve had ever given him credit for. More vulnerable and angry. Willing to do whatever it took to keep their attention on him and away from each other. He'd thought that would be enough to keep him down for the count.

He was wrong.

There's a split second sound from JARVIS through the suit's speakers and then Tony's being knocked off his feet by a blast from somewhere in Loki's direction. Cap's already moving before Steve's mind can even catch up with what's going on around him. Three quick strikes and then Loki's down for the count. Steve doesn't care. He's already turned on his heel and started sprinting toward where Tony lies, prone on the ground with a gaping hole in the right shoulder of his suit.

 _At least he missed the arc reactor_ , Steve thinks wildly, his mind grasping at whatever straws it can find. "Tony?"

Tony shudders, a whole body motion that looks all the worse for it being in the suit. "Fuck, that hurts like a bitch."

Steve's heart climbs into his throat, hope and terror warring in the space it leaves behind in his chest. "Tony? You with me?"

Tony coughs wetly and Steve's already reaching up for the catches on either side of the faceplate, popping it open. Tony blinks, turning to look up at Steve. "How'd you know how to do that?" There's a faint slur in Tony's voice that has Steve's chest going tight with worry.

"Told you," Steve says, trying desperately to remember where the manual release was on this suit. "Time traveler."

Tony seems to understand what he's looking for when he starts scrabbling at the sides of the chest plate. "Cap," he says. Then, in a strange sort of insight, "Steve. It's okay."

"It's not okay, even I can tell you're bleeding out in there. Fuck, we have to get you to—"

"Too late, Steve. You know it's too late."

Steve refuses to look up and meet Tony's eyes, too scared to see if they've filmed over with the orange of the Soul Stone again. "Tony—"

"Cap. Come on." The easy cajoling is enough to have Steve risking a glance at Tony's face. No sign of the Stone's interference, but that doesn't mean Steve's letting Tony off lightly. "It's gonna be okay."

"Of course it's not going to be okay, Tony, you're—" Steve cuts himself off before he can say the last word. Saying it always makes it so much more real.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am dying. But Steve, that's not the point. The point is that you're here, we took down Loki, and the rest is gonna be smooth sailing."

Steve laughs, but it feels like knives in his throat. "God, if only that were true."

That seems to get Tony's attention. "What? What does that mean?"

"If I tell you, will you will you stop fucking dying on me?"

"Steve—"

"Because if not, I'd just as soon lie to you and let you die in peace."

Tony reaches out, grabbing Steve's hand and pulling it in close against his chest. "Steve. Steve, don't fuck with me. How bad is it gonna get?"

Steve's lips twist. "Bad. It's gonna get bad. Without you there—" He cuts himself off and shakes his head. "It's gonna get bad."

Tony whimpers, the sound high and bleak in his chest. Steve twists his hand in Tony's grasp, trying not to succumb to the desire to finish getting Tony out of the suit. There's no point in any of that now. He'll just be carrying a corpse up to the transport in a few minutes anyway, and there's no way he's leaving what remains of the suit here to be taken and dissected by the highest bidder. "You're gonna stop it, though, right?"

Steve blinks. "What?"

"Whatever's coming. You're gonna stop it."

"That's not why I came back."

Tony shakes his head. "Doesn't matter. You're gonna stop it."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"Because," Tony says with a smile. "You're Captain America."

Steve shakes his head. "Tony—"

Tony grins before turning his head to the side and coughing up blood. Steve's heart climbs back up into his throat. God. This can't be what he came back here to do. It can't be.

Steve can hear Cap approaching, his footsteps heavier than they should be. "Come on. Get Stark up to the transport. We have an alien terrorist to get back to base."

Steve grits his teeth. He knows this version of himself has no idea what he's just lost and is still reeling from his own losses, but that doesn't make Steve any less pissed off that this is what he would once have said in this situation. That he used to be so callous with Tony's life. "Give me a minute."

"Steve," Tony cajoles. "Come on. We both— both— both know that waiting isn't going to change the outcome."

"Just give me a fucking minute, both of you."

They fall quiet. Steve would almost think he'd won this round if not for the light sound of a pair of feet running across the square toward them. There's a form beside him and a hand on his wrist, and this is the only person that would have been able to pull Steve back from drowning in the sorrow. "Steve," Natasha says, reaching out to wrap a hand around his wrist. "We need to get Stark back to Medical."

Steve closes his eyes, listing closer to Natasha. "Nat—"

"Medical, Rogers. Now."

Steve sighs. He may know that that won't be enough, but none of his companions seem to have the same urgency as he does. "Fine," he grunts, reaching out to take Tony into his arms. "If that's what it takes."

The three of them and their cargo make their way back to the transport. Tony seems to be trying his best to keep still, but Steve can tell how much energy it's taking. Steve wants to tell him it's fine, he can move as much as he needs to, at least it's proof positive that he's alive, but he can't force the words past his lips. He settles Tony across one of the low benches in the back of the transport, kneeling beside him. Tony grins, blood on his teeth, and Steve can see how much it's costing him.

Steve waits until they're well on their way back to the States to ask. "How bad is it?"

Tony looks up at him from the half-daze he'd fallen into. "Bad."

Steve nods. He doesn't take Tony's hand — he's nothing to this man — but he does keep one hand on his chest plate the whole way through the raging storm around them.

Steve can feel Mjolnir making its way closer and closer. It's a hell of a thing to reach out and snatch it from Thor in the split second he's safe inside the transport. Wouldn't do to take out one of their heaviest hitters before they'd even gotten started, now would it?

Thor looks over at him, eyes wide and stunned. "And you are?"

"Not your concern. We are taking Loki to a secure facility where we will determine the best course of action going forward. You are welcome to join us. You are not welcome to pull me away from a dying man for a fistfight that won't prove anything other than that we are here to be on your side."

"And you know this how?"

"Time traveler," Steve says with a grin.

Thor blinks, as though that was not the answer he was expecting. Steve figures it probably wasn't. Thor glances at Mjolnir where it rests at Steve's ankle. He holds a hand out to summon it that Steve matches, holding Mjolnir in stasis between them. Thor lowers his hand slowly so that Mjolnir snaps back into Steve's hold. "Very well, then."

Steve turns away from Thor and Cap, turning his attention back to Tony, who's staring at him with wide eyes. "What?" Steve asks.

"Nothing," Tony says. "Well, okay," he corrects at Steve's raised eyebrow, "I'm maybe a little turned on by the fact that you just talked down one of the most powerful beings we know of in the universe without breaking a sweat."

Steve shrugs. "I've seen stronger. Meaner, too."

"Yeah?"

Steve nods, the vision of Thanos firm behind his eyes. "Yeah."

Tony reaches out, grasping Steve by the wrist. "It's gonna be okay. You're gonna figure it out."

Steve snorts. "Never thought you were one for comforting."

"Maybe not, but you looked like you could use it."

"Yeah." Steve looks down at Tony, heart swelling in his chest. "Yeah, I guess I could."

"Good," Tony whispers back. He blinks a few more times, slow and lazy.

For his part, Steve can't take his eyes off the man. "We're gonna get you home, Tony. I swear."

"I know you will."

Steve swallows. "Tony, you have to know this wasn't what I came here to do."

"I know."

"Tony—"

"I can tell. I was something different to you, wasn't I?"

"What?"

Tony's face softens, and there's something strange about seeing that in a younger face. "I can tell from the way you look at me. The way you look at him." He nods in Cap's direction. "I don't know what I was to you, but it was something, wasn't it?"

"Tony, you're with—"

"Pepper. Yeah. But we both know that's only a matter of time. We're better as business partners. Better as friends. This isn't going to last. It never does.

"But with you…" Tony swallows. "Did it last, Steve? Was it worth it?"

Steve swallows, trying to work past the ache. "It didn't last," he says honestly. "But it was worth it."

There's a flicker of a smile on Tony's face. "Yeah?"

Steve nods, desperate to give Tony enough of the truth that he can pass in peace, without giving him so much that he realizes all of Steve's failures.

Tony smiles, and the blood on his lips is all the more apparent. "Good. That's good." He moves his hand to take Steve's in his, fingers winding through Steve's without a care in the world. It warms something deep in Steve's chest to have Tony so close and warm and willing, even if it is because he's on his deathbed.

Steve reaches up to card his fingers through Tony's hair. Tony leans into the touch, and Steve thinks he can almost see it, the minute Tony gives up. Steve closes his eyes, leans into the hurt, and steps away the second JARVIS starts blaring his alarms through the suit's speaker system. When Natasha swears, clearly torn between flying the transport and going back to help, Steve takes the decision out of her hands. He makes his way up to the cockpit, slides into place in the copilot's seat, and nods at her. She stares at him, wide-eyed and stunned, before switching over the controls, unbuckling her belt, and charging to the back of the transport.

Steve listens with half an ear to her desperate shouts, to Thor and Cap wrenching Tony out of the suit. He winces a little at that, knowing Tony wouldn't be at all happy about the treatment of his suit, but there's no point in shouting anything to that effect toward the back of the transport. They're doing what they think is right, what they think they need to do, and Steve is just here to facilitate all that until he can get the Stones to take him to try again. Because he won't do this any other way. He won't let them crash or lose Tony's body, and he certainly won't argue with them trying to save him. Because if by some miracle they manage to, he doesn't want Tony returned to the land of the living only to lose himself in a crash landing.

So Steve flies and listens and tries not to let himself be as terrified as he knows he is. Because he knows, somewhere deep down, that Tony really is gone. Again. And this time, there can be no denying that it really is his fault.

Natasha ends up pronouncing Tony dead about forty-five minutes out of New York. Steve flies them the rest of the way into town, unwilling to let Natasha force herself through that. She'd never said as much, but he knows there were times in her life when she saw Tony as family. The brother she'd never had. So Steve bears this burden, taking the weight of flying them the rest of the way home, willing and able to do whatever needs to be done to keep his team safe.

Steve doesn't want to stick around for what he knows is going to follow. He does just manage to break into Tony's lab and convince JARVIS to fly one of Tony's suits into town, to protect the city from the nuke that's going to be dropped on their heads in a few short hours. JARVIS is appropriately skeptical, but agrees to monitor the airways. Steve knows that will be more than enough to catch the nuke and see it safely into space. With that all settled, Steve finds himself almost adrift. Usually at this point he'd be squaring up against his other self to make him understand what he'd just lost, but this time around that feels false. Because this Cap truly does have no idea what he's lost, and that is somehow worse than anything else. That there's a version of himself that never got to see Tony as anything other than the selfish hero in a suit that he'd been so convinced Tony was. Nothing but the smirk and the laugh and the ego. Steve may know better, but Cap likely never will. Not with Tony gone.

There's only so much wallowing he can do while the city burns. Rather than wait for the nuke to come and go, though, Steve slips up and out onto Tony's landing pad, pulls the Stones from their pocket dimension, and lets himself fall into his next lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway fuck fascists, fuck maga assholes, fuck the people that want to take this country away from the people that really love her and want to see her become her best self. we're not where we need to be, but we won't FUCKING go back.
> 
> [for those reading this after posting, this chapter was posted on 6 january 2021 after... whatever the fuck just happened in DC]


	15. Chapter 15

He goes back further this time. Back to just before the moment that Fury had handed him a manila folder and told him the world needed saving. He wants so badly to prevent all of this from happening, to keep Clint out of Loki's hands and Tony safe and Coulson alive, but there's only so much he can change, only so much he can do. So he eavesdrops on Fury and his past self, lets his past self head out and take down Loki in Stuttgart, and waits and waits until just before the battle. 

It's only then that he reveals himself to Tony, ready for all the pushback he knows he's going to get and unwilling to let up for anything less. So he slips into the lab on the helicarrier where Tony's tuning up his suit and waits until the man doesn't have any dangerous tools in hand to approach him.

"Tony."

Tony startles, looking up at him sharply. "Captain." There's something shrewd and knowing in his expression that is more telling than the name he had used.

Steve feels his expression soften. "You already know I'm not him."

Tony grabs the blowtorch next to him, holding it out in front of himself threateningly. "If you think illusions like this are going to stop my team, you've got another thing coming, Loki."

Steve blinks. It's not a tactic he'd have thought of, not with the years between him and the goddamn time heist, but as soon as he speaks, he can see why Tony would think that. Steve lifts his hands placatingly and says "I'm not Loki."

Tony rolls his eyes. "Right. Like I'm supposed to believe that."

Steve purses his lips. "Believe me or don't, that's your choice. I'm not Loki."

"Right. What are you, then?"

"I'm a time traveler. I'm here from the future trying to undo all the shit that's going to come after this."

Tony's eyes go wide. "Do we lose?"

"No. No, we don't lose here. Not today."

"But we do lose."

"Eventually."

Tony looks away. "Alright, then." He goes back to his suit.

"What, that's all it takes for you to believe me?"

Tony snorts. "The Cap I met up there doesn't seem to believe in losing. If anyone would be ballsy enough to go back in time to fix something gone wrong, it would be him."

Steve feels a tension he didn't know he was holding flow out of his chest. "You need to be careful today."

Tony wrinkles his nose. "I thought you said we didn't lose today."

"Not the first time around."

"How many times have you done this?"

"Too many."

Tony hums idly, not looking up at Steve. His attention is wholly trained on repairing the suit. Steve almost wants to pull him away, almost wants to tell him not to bother because it's about to get trashed all over again.

Then again, maybe these modifications he's making were all that kept him alive for those few breathless moments in space.

Steve backs away, a silent observer as Tony does what he needs to do. There's too much noise in Steve's head right now, too many thoughts clamoring for his approval, and he can't bother doing much more than watch. This is one of the few times he's been allowed to see Tony in his element, in his truest, most central form. This is who Tony is down to his core, and Steve wouldn't love him the way he does if he didn't know that this was a part of Tony too. So he stays and he watches and he waits, and when the time comes for him to ride into battle, Tony holds out a gauntleted hand to Steve.

Steve blinks. Tony chuckles, wiggling his fingers. "You want a ride to the party, Cap?"

Steve's breath leaves him in a rush. "Yeah," he whispers. "Yeah, I'd like that."

It's a blisteringly cold ride to the Tower, Steve clinging to the suit while Tony maneuvers with all the skill and grace that Steve has always envied in the man. When they get close enough that they can see some of what's going on at the top of the Tower, Tony swings low to the ground and drops Steve off. Steve can't keep himself from reaching out to grasp Tony by the shoulder. "Be careful."

Tony gives him a lopsided grin. "I will."

Steve knows it's a lie, but he doesn't see much reason to point that out to Tony. He just watches as Tony rockets up the side of the Tower, cruising towards Loki at full speed. Steve's chest goes tight as he watches, worry and uncertainty clogging his throat. He forces himself to turn on his heel and head toward the center of the coming disaster.

He focuses on getting people off the streets. His other self has the heroics covered, and he's seen what can happen if he interferes too directly or too soon or too much. So he stays off to the sides, protecting the people that need protecting and letting his other self do the rest.

And when his comms light up with those telltale words, Steve closes his eyes and prays.

"Stark. You know that's a one-way trip."

And damn his other self to hell and back; if he only knew—

Steve's already running full tilt toward the spot where Thor and his other self are tied up in battle. He knows there's only moments here. He tracks the portal with his eyes, the actions of his former teammates with the chatter on the comms in his ears, the aliens with the feel of them thundering through the streets. He checks into all of it, anything to ensure that Cap doesn't close the portal too soon.

Steve needn't have worried. Cap waits even longer than he had the first time around, and then Tony's dropping from the sky like a ragdoll. Hulk snatches him out of the air easy as anything, and the relief Steve feels is heady. Tony's safe, at least for now, and that's what really matters. 

That's what makes all the difference.

He stays out of sight as Cap and Thor and Hulk revive Tony. There's a second surge of relief when Tony starts moving, asking desperate questions of Cap as Cap revels in the weight of their victory. Steve lets himself lean back against the side of the skyscraper he's hiding behind to sink into his own relief. Now all he has to do is figure out what he's going to do differently this time around to make sure that Tony stays safe.

In the end, he convinces himself to go join them at the shawarma joint they'd hit up after the battle. Loki is still shackled outside, and he knows Thor will have the foresight to check on him to confirm to all of them that Steve really could be who he says he is. He saunters in with all the confidence he doesn't feel, pulling out an extra chair and situating himself between Tony and Thor.

Cap sits straight up, fumbling for his shield as soon as he realizes who Steve is. Steve shakes his head, waving Cap off. "Not Loki. Thor can go check if you want, but I'm not."

Thor looks over at him, body not nearly as heavy as the rest of the team, and nods. "Aye, I can go look to be certain, but this does not seem to be in line with Loki's trickery."

"He's already pretended to be me once today, why wouldn't he try again?"

Steve grins, the memory of the sound Tony had made at Loki's mockery warming something in his chest. "Yeah, that was a dick move, but you have to admit it was kind of funny."

That gets Tony's attention. His head snaps around to face Steve, his eyes wide and surprised. "Seriously?"

Steve feels his face soften the way it always does when Tony cues into him. "It was hilarious."

Tony bites his lip, cutting his gaze over to Cap. He sobers, though, at whatever he sees on Cap's face. "Might as well still go check, Thor. It never hurts to be cautious."

Steve snorts at that, unable to restrain the utter mirth that statement leaves in his chest. It's Tony's turn to look baffled. "You're not the most careful person in the world, Tony. You know that as well as I do." Steve leans over and snatches some food from Tony's basket. Tony smacks the back of his hand, but Steve just laughs at him in return.

"Thor." Cap's voice is sharp, almost harsh, and snappish and brittle in a way that Steve can only vaguely remember being himself. He's learned since then how to mitigate some of the pain, learned to hide it and pretend it isn't killing him inside to know that every time Tony's died it's been at least partially his fault. "Go check on Loki."

Nat and Clint both have their eyes on him now too, Clint's bright and distrustful, Natasha's sharp and knowing. He locks onto her gaze first. "You know it's me."

She blinks, looking as startled as she ever does, which is to say not at all. She shrugs. "I know it would take a hell of a lot of skill and guts to get out of the bindings Thor put Loki into. Plus, you've got the same fashion sense as Cap over there."

Steve nods, leaning across the table to snatch some of her food too. "As observant as always, Natasha. Good to see it put to good use."

That gets her hackles up. "As opposed to?"

Steve grins. "As opposed to trying to get me a date."

Cap squawks, but Natasha seems to understand the implication. She raises an eyebrow and relaxes back against her chair. "Huh."

"Loki is still confined outside," Thor confirms. Steve responds by stealing from his basket next. "That would seem to imply that—"

"That this isn't Loki." Tony smacks the back of Steve's hand when he reaches for Tony's basket again. "I can order some for you."

Steve shrugs. "If you want. I'm fine just snagging what you all aren't going to eat."

"How do you know what we aren't going to eat?" Clint sounds curious, but Steve knows better than to take it at face value. Not that it matters; he doesn't have anything to hide from them.

"Because I have an eidetic memory. Oh, and because I'm from the future."

That shuts all of them up, long enough for Steve to steal from Clint's basket. Clint had eaten the least of all of them the first time around, but he'd also eaten the fastest. Better to give him time to eat what he needs before Steve starts stealing too much. Better to let him settle back into his body so that he can feel a little more like himself before Steve pushes him too far.

Steve takes a moment to look around the shop. He'd been too tired the first time around to look too closely, and it's sobering to see how much damage had really been done, to remember how devastating all of this had been the first time around, back before he knew better.

He looks back at the table and is met with varying degrees of scrutiny. Clint's squinting at him, Natasha and Bruce are frowning, and Cap looks downright shell-shocked. Even Thor looks mildly skeptical at the claim. Steve steels himself before he looks over at Tony to determine his reaction.

For his part, Tony merely looks contemplative. "You know that's scientifically impossible."

Steve shrugs. "Nothing's impossible when you set your mind to it, Tony."

Tony rolls his eyes. "I mean, yeah, sure, with a chipper attitude like yours there's plenty of things that can get done, but the laws of physics state—"

"I didn't mean you in the general sense, Tony. I meant _you_ specifically. Nothing is impossible when you, Tony Stark, put your mind to it."

That shuts Tony up. He stares at Steve with a kind of desperate hope that Steve's never seen in him before. Steve can't quite place where the hope is coming from, can't understand what it is that has Tony looking so desperate, but it pulls at something in Steve's chest that he doesn't know how to quiet. Not that he wants to.

"You're the one that gave me this power, Tony. It was all you."

Tony wets his lips. "Why?"

Steve frowns. "Why what?"

"What happened that was so terrible that I resorted to creating time travel?"

That pulls Steve up short. "I'm not sure that's the best thing to tell you right now, Tony."

"So it was bad?"

Steve swallows. "Yes. It was bad."

Tony looks away, over at Cap, and then Natasha. The knowing in that instinct pulls at Steve's gut, thick and heavy and dragging in a way that has him wanting to get up and leave and ignore this particular timeline, priorities be damned. He knows he won't, but the temptation is there. Tony looks back at Steve. "Okay."

"Okay?" Cap sits straight up, glaring across the table at Tony. "What the hell is _okay_ about any of this?"

"What, you want me to prove I'm you, Cap? Ask me anything. Something you think only you would know."

Cap narrows his eyes. "Basic training. There was an exercise with a flag. What—"

"Pulled out the pin at the base instead of trying to climb the flagpole like the rest of the idiots. Got a ride back to base with Peggy out of it too." Cap's jaw snaps shut audibly, his eyes wide and a little pained at the mention of Peggy. Steve winces. "Sorry. Probably too close to the mark this soon, huh?"

Cap looks away, not dignifying that with an answer.

Steve nods and turns to look at the table at large again. "Anybody else need convincing?"

Bruce and Tony both look away. Thor shrugs idly, and Natasha tilts her head slightly before giving Steve a sharp nod and before they both go back to her food. Oddly enough, it's Clint that keeps staring at him. Steve raises a challenging eyebrow. This seems to be the wrong move, as Clint's jaw goes tight in response. "I just got my head fucked over by an alien. I'm not about to believe anything is real without proof."

Steve opens his mouth to snap back, only to think of the warm comfort of Clint's home and the familiar warmth of his children moving through the house on their own. The devastation Clint had suffered at their loss. Steve closes his mouth and swallows, trying to find his words. Then he leans across the table to Clint, meeting his eyes dead on. "I know about Laura."

Clint jerks back, reaching for his bow. "Is that a _threat_ you son of a—"

"And they're both beautiful, Clint. Both of them."

That startles Clint into freezing, his bow in hand but not extended. "What? How—?"

"We needed a place to hide. You were our best — and probably only — hope."

Clint lowers his bow slowly. "So they're safe."

"They're safe."

Clint lets out a breath of air in a rush, his body slumping as he rests his elbows on the table. "Okay. Okay."

Steve nods and sits back, glancing at the rest of the team as they stare at the two of them in varying levels of confusion. "Any other questions?"

"Yes." That's Nat. "How long will you be staying?"

Steve swallows, certain that his answer won't be a popular one but willing to give it regardless. "As long as necessary."

"Necessary for what?"

"My mission."

No one asks anything more.

* * *

It takes the better part of two days to get everything sorted and Loki back off to Asgard with Thor. For his part, Steve welcomes Tony's offer to set up shop in the Tower, even as Cap rides off into the sunset on his national tour.

"What was it like?" Tony asks one night about a week later as the two of them and Bruce are eating dinner. "Traveling the country on your bike. What was it like?"

Steve contemplates it, lifting his beer to his lips as he does. "Necessary," he finally settles on. "It was necessary."

Tony wrinkles his nose. "What does that mean?"

Steve looks away. "I was feeling displaced enough already. New York had been my home my whole life, and to come back to a place that wasn't mine anymore… it just hurt. Felt like losing more than just my friends and my past and my life. It felt like losing everything I ever knew.

"So I went around the country. Saw the world as it was now in places that didn't mean as much to me. Places that were mine without being _mine_. My country, my people, but not… not New York. New York hurt too much."

Tony stares at him for a long moment, something knowing in his eyes. He looks away eventually, nodding as he goes back to his own beer. "Yeah. Yeah, I can see that."

Steve stares down at his own dinner, his stomach twisting almost enough to have him passing on dinner. Almost. He eats what he can, knowing he'll want the energy tomorrow, especially if his plan to convince Tony into some hand-to-hand combat practice is successful.

His nudges throughout dinner are successful, and Tony meets him in the gym at two o'clock sharp the next day. Steve gives him time to get warmed up before they begin. Tony looks far more hesitant than Steve thinks he has any right to be, given that Steve has been a guest in the Tower for going on a month at this point. He'd have thought that he'd proved his loyalty by now, but he supposes Tony has been burned before. No reason to let that get to him.

Boxing turns to grappling and Steve would be a lot more uncomfortable about his proximity to Tony if he thought he had a chance with him. But Tony's with Pepper, has been with Pepper the whole time Steve's been in 2012, and he knows better than to push where he isn't wanted. So he keeps his focus on the grappling and ignores the low burn of want in his belly. 

This is about Tony; this is _for_ Tony, and what Steve wants is inconsequential.

Tony seems to notice Steve's distraction. He tries to use it to his advantage, but Steve's used to fighting distracted, and Tony isn't trained enough out of the suit to do a damn thing about it. Steve leans into the fight, trying to clear his mind of the wants and worries that plague him. Trying to focus on what Tony has and is and does in front of him instead of what might one day be coming. He'd like to think he knows better than that by now. He doesn't.

Tony calls it quits halfway through hour three. Steve just grins and cuffs him over the head before they maneuver their way out of the boxing ring. Steve had thought, back at the beginning of all this, that one day the warm glow in his chest that comes from knowing that Tony's alive would fade. Here and now though, so far removed from that first lifetime, Steve still can't shake the relief he feels when he looks at Tony. It ebbs and flows, comes and goes, but it's always there, even as a banked and burning ember in his chest. Steve keeps his hands to himself, though, no matter how much he wants to reach out, to grab a towel and wipe the sweat from his brow. Tony glances at him, his nose wrinkled as though he can read Steve's thoughts, but doesn't say anything. Steve swallows the relief and looks away.

"That enough training for you today, Mr. Super Soldier?"

Steve grins, but still doesn't let himself look over at Tony. "Dunno. I've still got plenty of energy."

Steve can practically har Tony roll his eyes. "You're a menace."

Steve's grin widens at the cheek before he sobers, looking out the window toward the Manhattan skyline. "I've been called worse."

Tony snorts. "Not by me." Steve must hesitate a moment too long, because Tony turns to look at him, and Steve can feel the betrayal in his gaze. "Steve—"

"Not by you, specifically," Steve says. "But there are versions of you that I've done wrong by. Versions of you that I've failed utterly. I deserved every word."

There's a moment where Tony doesn't move. Then he reaches out slowly, hand fumbling at Steve's elbow to get his attention. "You must have had a reason."

"Not a good one."

"Doesn't matter. You had a reason that was strong enough that you made a choice. Whatever choice it was, Steve, I know you were doing what you thought was right. What you thought you needed to do. That's who you are."

Steve closes his eyes as he swallows. "Even if I betrayed you?"

"Even then."

Steve pulls his arm out of Tony's grip, hating how quickly the words had come. "You don't even know what I did, Tony. How can you say that?"

"Because," Tony says, as though it's perfectly obvious, "I'm not the greatest person on the planet. No one could blame you for not doing right by me. Not even me."

"I blame myself. For all of it."

Tony chuckles, and Steve turns to look at him, dumbfounded. "That's because you're hard on yourself, Steve. That's been obvious from the day you showed up."

"You don't get it, Tony. The things I did… they're unforgivable."

Tony reaches out again, taking Steve by the elbow. Steve tries not to flinch, not to make himself smaller at the weight that the press of Tony's hand leaves against his skin. "Steve. Listen to me. If your Tony was anything like me, I know he didn't hold it against you. Whatever you did, he knew you were just doing your best through whatever was happening. That's all you've ever done, Steve."

That's the last straw. Steve whirls around, grabbing Tony's wrist as he spins so that he can urge Tony across the gym to slam against the wall. "You think you know, Tony? You think you know what I could have done? You think you know how ready I was to—" He shakes his head. "You don't know, Tony. You have no idea."

"Then tell me." Tony's eyes spark as he stands a little straighter against the wall. "Make me understand."

Steve feels like he's been slapped, the words he himself has uttered so many times before coming back to smack him in the chest. Tony stares up at him, eyes blazing despite the bruises Steve's fist is leaving around his wrist. Steve lets go, a snap decision that has him two steps away before Tony grabs him by the wrist in turn, refusing to let go.

"Tell me."

Steve yanks his hand out of Tony's grip. "Don't ask me to do that, Tony. Don't ask me to relive all that. Don't ask me to tell you. Don't ask me to remember."

"If you're going to keep using it against me, I at least deserve to know what happened."

"Why do you even want to know?"

"Because if it's hurting you even half as much as it looks like it is, you deserve to have someone that knows. Let me be that person for you, Steve. Or if not me then Bruce, or Natasha, or, hell, tell Clint for all I care. But you have to tell someone, Steve. You've been doing this alone for too damn long. So please, Steve. Use us. Let us help you. Let us be here for you." Steve closes his eyes, ignoring the sound of Tony's steps moving around to stand in front of him. He feels Tony's hand come up to cup his cheek, gentle and present. It's too much. "Tell me."

Steve grabs him by the wrist again, twisting it behind his back so he can pin Tony against the wall again. "You want to know? You want to know what I did?" He presses Tony harder against the wall, darkly relishing the sound of the arc reactor scraping against the wall. "I stood in front of you and told you we were a team. I told you that when the worst came, we'd face it as a team. Together." Tony's breath hitches. "And then I kept the worst secret I possibly could from you and let it tear us apart."

"I'm used to secrets, Steve. Don't pretend that that's all this was." Tony sounds breathless, but his words are firm and sure as he speaks.

Steve shoves him higher up against the wall, pushing him up so he's on his toes, the bulk of his weight resting against Steve's grip. "That's not even the worst of it, Tony. You want to know the worst of it? We fought. Full tilt, no holds barred, the kind of fighting where you're just just trying to fuck each other up and break each other down. You in the suit and me with— with the person that represented the secrets I'd been keeping. We fought each other, Tony. I fought you."

"That's no surprise, Steve. I'm not the nicest dude around, you have to know—"

Steve puts all his weight into holding Tony aloft and leans in close enough that he's breathing his next few words against the shell of Tony's ear. "I put my shield through your arc reactor, Tony."

Tony's breath hitches.

"I put my shield through your arc reactor and I would have done worse if given the chance."

"You don't mean that."

Steve shifts enough to see the way Tony's eyes are clenched shut against Steve's words. Steve pulls back, lowering Tony to the ground as he does. He feels sick.

"You— you don't mean that."

Steve swallows past the thickness in his throat and meets Tony's eyes, shining with the tears Steve knows he won't shed. "I meant it then," he says, and watches as Tony flinches. "Now? Now I wouldn't do a damn thing to hurt you. All of this — the time traveling and the fighting and the choice to be a man out of time all over again — that's all for you. I wouldn't hurt you now. But it would be a lie if I didn't tell you what I've done to you in the past."

Tony stares at him, his brilliant mind clearly working overtime on that statement. Steve turns away. There's nothing he can say here that will change Tony's mind, whatever it lands on.

"Don't you walk away from me."

Steve blinks at Tony's sharp tone. He turns to look at Tony over his shoulder. "You're not safe around me when I'm like this, Tony. I'd think that much would be obvious."

"Because, what, you think that all we are is our pasts?" Tony scoffs. "If that were true then I'd be nothing but a war profiteer. Is that all you think I am?"

"Of course not. You've saved so many people, Tony, so goddamn many. For God's sake, you've saved the whole—" Steve cuts off the word _universe_ before it can slip past his lips. "Of course you're not."

Tony nods. "Neither are you."

Steve closes his eyes. "It's not that simple."

"It is from where I'm standing."

"I tried to _kill_ you, Tony! Do you not get that? I tried to kill you." The second iteration comes more softly, a quiet admission of guilt in the air between them. "I don't know what it is that you don't get about this."

Tony stays still for a long moment before moving slowly forward into Steve's space. He makes enough noise that Steve knows he's coming, careful to telegraph everything. He reaches out, clasping Steve's hand in two of his. "And I've been responsible for tens of thousands of deaths, both American and foreign. I did that, Steve, whether you want to accept it or not. We all have our histories. Things that make us who we are. I may not know a whole lot about that guy that took off on a national tour a few weeks ago, but I sure have come to know you.

"You're the guy that makes sure the coffee pot is full and ready to go for me every morning. You're the guy that hauls me out of my engineering binges and makes me eat and sleep and pretend I'm a real person." Steve can't help but crack a grin at that. "You're someone that clearly wants what's best for me, whether you know that or not. I can't claim to know what went on between you and the Tony you think you tried to kill, but he's not me and that's not between us. This, what the two of us have? What the two of us are to each other? That's got nothing to do with your past."

"It has everything to do with my past. I wouldn't even be here if you hadn't—"

Tony waits for a few moments as though to let Steve finish his thought. When he doesn't, Tony takes a step closer, putting himself fully in Steve's space. "If I hadn't what?"

Steve lets himself lean forward, planting his forehead on Tony's shoulder. "If you hadn't died."

Tony goes stiff. Steve tries not to let it get to him, tries to just hang on for whatever's coming. "I died?"

"You died."

"How?"

"Tony, don't ask me that, please, I can't—"

"Was it your fault?"

"Yes."

"Was it from the hit to my arc reactor?"

"No, god, no, of course not. I didn't— I wasn't— no. No, this was something else."

"Then it wasn't your fault."

"Maybe not directly, no. But if I'd kept my promises the first time around, you never would have been in a situation that required you to sacrifice yourself in the first place."

"How do you know that?"

Steve frowns. He starts to pull back, but Tony plants a hand at the back of Steve's neck, keeping him held close.

"How do you know I wouldn't have died?"

"I just… I just know."

"But how?"

Steve closes his eyes again, trying to find the words. "Because the enemy that killed you never should have been in a position to kill you in the first place. I should have been with you to fight him. I should have kept you safe."

Tony hums, running his thumb in massaging circles at the base of Steve's skull. "But that doesn't necessarily mean that I wouldn't have died. I just might have died with you at my side instead of with you far away."

"I wasn't— I was there, Tony. I watched you die. I stood there and watched because there was nothing I could do to save you. There was nothing any of us could do to save you. Don't you get it? I… I failed you, Tony. And I've failed you a hundred times or more since."

That has Tony pulling back. He cups Steve's face in his hands, searching his eyes. "Steve. How many times have you done this?"

"What?"

"How many times have you gone back in time to try to save my life?"

Steve blinks, then shrugs. "I couldn't tell you. More than a hundred, at least, if you count all the times I've—" He cuts himself off, shaking his head. "More than a hundred. Maybe more than two hundred."

Tony's eyes go wide. "But Steve, you don't look like you've aged more than a couple years, if that."

Steve frowns, trying to make sense of that. He casts around for the idea that's pinging in the back of his brain, clamoring for his attention. He'd been wondering about that since Bucky had said the same thing a few lifetimes ago. The thought comes as though it had just been waiting for the attention. "Oh. Thor mentioned something about that. That the serum may have slowed down the aging process for me, along with the healing factor." He shrugs. "It's no big deal."

Tony shakes his head in disbelief. "Steve. Listen. If you're going to spend your whole life chasing something that might be a fixed point, you really should just go back to your original timeline."

"Fixed point?"

Tony nods. "It's part of some time travel theories. The idea that a point in time or a certain event may be fixed. That there may be no way to change or undo it. If I've died every time you've tried to save me, maybe that's the universe—"

"The multiverse," Steve interrupts.

Tony blinks, but continues. "Maybe that's the multiverse trying to tell you something. This might all be a pointless endeavor, Steve. Maybe I'm just… supposed to die."

Steve's breath hitches in his chest. "Don't say that."

"It's a possibility, Steve. You know it as well as I do. Maybe this is just what's supposed to happen."

Steve pulls away from Tony, turning away as he goes. "Don't you fucking say that, Tony. You have no idea what I've been through trying to keep you alive."

"And I'm telling you, maybe it's time for you to stop."

Steve closes his eyes, all the strength sapped from his body all at once. "And what am I supposed to do instead?"

Tony's feet are soft on the ground, but not soft enough to escape Steve's hearing as he moves closer. Steve isn't as surprised as he thinks he should be to feel Tony's hands on his face. "Just live your life, Steve. Live the life that this power has given you. Be the man you didn't let yourself be the first time around. There's so much more here than you can even begin to understand. Why not start now?"

Steve wets his lips. "Here? Or back in my own time?"

Tony's face shutters. "Wherever you think your place is. Wherever you think you belong."

Steve hums, reaching out to cup Tony's face in his hand. "And if I think that I belong here? Taking on a life that never should have been mine in the first place?"

"Then I'd say that's exactly in line with what I just told you to do." Tony's smile is small and uncertain. "This is the world you're in right now, Steve. Might as well make the most of it."

Steve has to fight not to pull Tony in close. It's not what he'd had in the last lifetime — a temptation that was so far from the truth — but it's something more than what he'd had the first time around. Or any of the other times. This is a Tony that could be his for the taking, if only he can time it well.

Tony seems to see everything that Steve isn't saying. "You do know that Pepper and I broke up, right?"

"What?"

"After the Battle of New York. She's never liked me being so willing to sacrifice myself for whatever reason I see fit. Apparently this was just the last straw."

Steve frowns. "That's not right."

Tony hums, seeming distracted by something on Steve's face. "Come again?"

"You two stayed together for years. You—" He cuts himself off. "I know you had your ups and downs, but there's no reason for you to give up on her so easily."

Tony looks back up at him. The smile on his face is more shy than any Steve has ever seen before. "Well, I can certainly think of one reason."

Steve goes hot all over at the implication. It's not that he's uninterested — quite the opposite in fact. But this is so much more than he'd ever thought he would have, so different, so sudden. There's no way this is what he was meant to do or have or be, but if Tony's _offering_ — "Yeah?"

Tony's smile is radiant. "Yeah."

Steve punches down the surge of hope in his chest, the want and desperate desire. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against Tony's. "I'm not gonna take you straight to bed, though. You know that, right?"

Tony groans. "Don't tell me."

Steve laughs, wrapping an arm tight around Tony's waist. "You barely know me, Tony. Even if you believed everything Howard told you, you have to know that that's not all me."

"But you know me," Tony counters. "You know me and you obviously want me. That's enough reason to try in my book."

"No. If this is going to be us, if we're really going to try, then this needs to be a relationship of equals, Tony. It has to be. I'm not in this for anything less than that."

Tony wrinkles his nose. "But you're Captain America."

"And you're Iron Man. Where I come from, that means something."

"It means something here too."

"Clearly not enough if you think this isn't going to be an equal relationship. This is us, Tony. We're in this together, or not at all."

Tony closes his eyes, leaning in against Steve. "Together, huh?" Steve's heart trips over the sound of that word on Tony's lips, but he keeps his composure. "That sounds… nice."

Steve closes his eyes and buries his face in Tony's hair. "It does, doesn't it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sup. sorry i haven't updated in like..... 16 days. i, uh. i was in the hospital? for ten days?? so that was..... yeah. i'm on the mend, though, so that's good.
> 
> that being said, if you're reading this and have been following along quietly..... this would be a really wonderful time to drop me a comment here, even just an anon one if that's all you're comfortable doing. i'm not in the best headspace, and any/all affection you're willing to provide would be much appreciated.
> 
> i love you all and hope that you are healthy, safe, and well.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks everyone for the outpouring of support on the last chapter. knowing how much you all are enjoying this journey with me really helped me get through the rough reentry to work this week. i promise i'm going to work on replying to comments this weekend, but know that i appreciate each and every one of them and each and every one of you, whether you commented or not, for joining me on this journey. this steve and his many tonys have become near and dear to my heart and i'm so glad that i get to share them with you all. as thanks, (and because i couldn't find a good place to break the chapter while maintaining approximately equal chapter lengths) i'm posting two chapters this week.
> 
> thank you for being a part of this fandom. you all are the reason i'm still here.

Steve insists on three dates before he lets Tony tumble them into bed. He knew he was a goner when he couldn’t even manage to make it past the first date without Tony sticking his tongue down Steve's throat. But he likes to think that maybe, just maybe, this means something to Tony the same way it means something to Steve. He tries not to look too closely when Tony stares back up at him in bed. He tries not to lean into Tony's touches on the mornings when he stays in Steve's bed until sunrise. He tries not to want this too much, because something in him knows there's a time limit on all of this. There has to be. He’s not sure if he succeeds.

It isn't until about four months into their relationship that Steve starts to notice how skittish Tony's become. There's a nervous tension under his skin that Steve isn't unfamiliar with, but which feels more acute than it's been in a long time, and he's spending more and more time out at the house in Malibu. It's not enough to get Steve upset, but it sure is enough to have him thinking a little bit deeper about what exactly is going on in his… in Tony's head.

Steve doesn't confront Tony head-on. That's a surefire way to lose the man entirely and find himself on the couch or kicked out of the Tower to boot. So he waits and he watches, and when he's feeling brave enough, he sneaks out to Malibu to surprise Tony a few days before Christmas. When he gets there, he finds Tony buried in tech in the workshop. Steve lets himself linger in the doorway for a few long minutes, waiting and watching as Tony moves and manipulates data at lightning speeds. It's comforting and terrifying too to see the sheer number of suits Tony has lined up along the back wall of the shop.

Eventually, though, Steve starts to feel more like a creeper than a doting… whatever he is to Tony, and he clears his throat, stepping into the workshop to make himself known. He comes face to face with a gauntlet that's primed to fire, only for Tony to whip it away from Steve's face and stare at him, wide-eyed and a little lost.

"Steve."

Steve smiles, heart in his throat as he reaches out for Tony. He moves slowly, giving Tony time to pull away, but he doesn't. He face plants into Steve's chest and clings to him, metal fingers gripping hard at the thin fabric of Steve's t-shirt. "Hey, sugar. What's going on?"

Tony shakes his head.

Steve hums, pressing his cheek against Tony's hair. "You gotta tell me, babe. I can't help you if I don't know."

"You know what I did, right? I mean, you weren't there, but you know… you know."

Steve frowns, trying to parse Tony's meaning. "You're going to have to be a little more specific than that, Tony."

Tony pulls back. "About the…" He waves a hand in the air, as though to encompass the words he isn't saying. "About the thing in New York. The nuke," he finally adds, when Steve still looks baffled.

Steve nods. "I know. I was there."

Tony cuts his eyes over at him, something calculating in the expression. Then it disappears in favor of the exhaustion that seems to seep from his every pore. "I can't… I can't sleep. I can't think. I can't do anything if it's not a way to keep the world safe. To keep everyone and everything on this planet safe. I can't— I can't do that again, Steve, but I have to do something. I have to."

Steve doesn't take Tony's flailing hands in his, too used to the nervous energy that Tony needs to let loose when he's in one of these states. He does lean in close, though, hands on Tony's hips as he kisses his forehead. "I know, Tony."

Tony pulls back, blinking at him. "You do?"

"I do." Steve sweeps Tony's sweaty hair back from his forehead, reveling in the feel of it under his fingers. "There's something about you that just… you're a protector, Tony. Down to your core. I know that. Anyone that knows you like I do knows that."

Tony huffs and rolls his eyes. "Pepper said—"

"Pepper is scared, Tony. We all are. You're brave as hell, but you're reckless too. None of us is comfortable with it, but we love you regardless. Pepper's way just requires a little more of an overprotective streak than mine does."

"Yeah?" Tony leans back, planting his chin on Steve's chest and staring up at him with warm, wet eyes. "What does yours require?"

Steve cups Tony's face in his hands and leans down to plant a kiss on his lips, warm and close and content. "You staying alive and well. That's all. Whether that means fighting at your side or keeping you fed, I'm a happy man either way. If that means dragging you to bed or sitting with you in the lab while you push the limits of science, I don't care. As long as you're alive and well, I'm a happy man."

Tony closes his eyes, leaning into Steve's touch. "Promise?" he whispers.

Steve nods. "I promise."

* * *

Tony sends Steve back to New York, citing a series of upcoming projects and meetings for SI. Steve hesitates, not wanting to leave Tony behind with what he fears is coming, but he also doesn't want to overstay his welcome. He knows this relationship is fragile and new for both of them, and that pushing too hard might break this before it has a chance to really solidify into something like what Steve so desperately wants it to be.

So Steve goes. When the Mandarin comes just days later, attacking Happy and snatching Pepper from the house in Malibu, Steve tries to insist on coming with Tony to save her. He knows that Happy's stood by Tony through thick and thin. He knows too that, even if he and Tony are together, Pepper will always be a special part of Tony's life. She was one of the first people to see Tony as he truly is — a hero and a warrior in his own right. Steve can't begrudge Tony the need to go save her himself.

He can begrudge the man the reckless behavior in taunting the Mandarin out to fight him in the first place, but that's a separate issue.

So Steve's stuck in New York while Tony fights to save Pepper's life. As he nearly loses her. There's so much going on, so much for them to wait for, to focus on, to marinate in, that Steve knows it's just a matter of time before Tony comes home and breaks up with him. After all, Pepper is the woman he'd married the first time around. That has to count for more than what little place Steve's carved out for himself in Tony's life.

He waits and he wonders and he tries not to be too terrified that what will come back to him with Tony is a quiet apology and a break-up. He watches as Tony makes all the right announcements in Malibu, as he goes over what's being done for the victims of Killian's attacks.

There's so much still for Tony to do that Steve eventually stops waiting and starts trying to move through the world the same way he had before. Through the gym and the kitchen, around Bruce in the mornings. Out for a run and down to Central Park to sketch the people around him, and through it all, the only thing he wants is Tony back at his side.

He doesn't dare call. He doesn't want to have to hear Tony break up with him over the phone.

When he wakes up one morning with company in his bed, Steve almost loses his shit. He knows he wouldn't have taken someone home willingly, but if someone found a way to drug him—

Then his eyes catch on the familiar form beneath the comforter and he relaxes a little. Tony. It's Tony, curled up in his bed, clutching at a pillow the way he always does when he goes to bed worried or self-conscious about the light of the arc reactor. Steve can't help himself. He reaches out, ghosting his fingers over the wing of Tony's shoulder blade, just to feel the warmth of his skin under his fingers. Tony stays as still as stone beneath his fingers. Steve almost shakes him awake just to quell the fear in his stomach, but he refrains. Tony's fine. He has to be fine.

Steve lets his fingers trace past Tony's shoulder blade and down along his side, back up his spine, down along his arm. When he gets to Tony's hand, it turns, and Steve finds his fingers interlaced with Tony's.

Steve's breath catches. "Tony?"

Tony looks over his shoulder at him, a warm, sleepy smile on his face. It's more than Steve deserves and it makes him want to unspool his heart into Tony's hands. That would hurt less than what Steve knows is coming. "Morning."

"Morning." Steve tries to keep the waver out of his voice.

Tony hears it, though, and is upright and staring at Steve instantly. "What is it?"

Steve's throat goes tight. He shakes his head, trying to force a smile that doesn't want to come. "I missed you," he manages.

Tony leans forward, wrapping his arms around Steve's shoulders. "I missed you too, babe."

Steve doesn't want to give in when he knows he'll only have this for a little while longer, but he can't help it. He's lost Tony in so many ways over the years. He doesn't want to give this up any sooner than he has to. Steve lets himself want, lets himself have this; he wraps his arms around Tony's waist and pulls him into his lap. Tony huffs at the manhandling, but Steve knows he likes it. He'd told Steve as much on their six-month anniversary. Steve smiles into Tony's throat, inhaling his scent as he tries not to fall apart. Tony curls up close against him, and Steve can feel the fine trembling in Tony's limbs. He runs a hand along Tony's spine, anchoring the other at the small of his back. "What is it?"

"What's what?"

Steve knows better than to let Tony deflect. "You're shaking." Steve's pretty sure he knows why, but better to let Tony say his piece. "What is it?"

Tony tries to curl up in a ball in Steve's lap. Steve lets him, but keeps his own face buried in Tony's throat. Tony shakes his head, and Steve knows he isn't ready to say whatever it is yet.

Steve closes his eyes, wrapping himself as tightly around Tony as he can. "Okay. Whenever you're ready, Tony. I'm right here."

Tony makes a choked-off sound that might have been trying to be a sob. Steve kisses whatever part of Tony he can reach; in this case, it's a small patch of skin over the tendon in his neck. Tony moans at the touch, and Steve pulls back automatically. This isn't his place anymore. It hasn't been for a while, if it ever was. He pulls away and closes his eyes, trying not to let it hurt.

"Why'd you stop?"

The breath catches in Steve's throat. He swallows, trying to think past the terror in his mind. "What?"

Tony uncurls just far enough to look up at Steve. "I liked that. Why'd you stop?"

Steve feels frozen in time — not a phrase he uses lightly — as he stares down into Tony's eyes, trying to figure out what the right answer would be. As he watches, Tony's face shifts from that small, worried expression he'd started with to the expression of a man on a problem-solving mission. He reaches up to cup Steve's face in his hands. "Steve?" His voice is small but confident, as though he thinks he knows what Steve's about to say. As though either of them knows what Steve's about to say.

"I'm sorry." The words don't surprise Steve, but they clearly surprise Tony if the way he pulls his hands away is any indication. "I shouldn't— I shouldn't have—" He shakes his head. "I shouldn't have done that."

Tony's face shifts from the open shock of pain to a frown. "Why not?"

Steve closes his eyes and bows his head. "Because I know what you're here to do. I know what you're here to say to me. And I get it, I do, I just… I wasn't expecting it to be like this."

There's a moment of stillness before Tony reaches out to lift Steve's head. Steve opens his eyes instinctively, not willing to let Tony's request go unmet. "What do you think I'm here to do?" Steve closes his eyes again, shaking his head, but Tony holds firm. "Steve. Baby. What do you think I'm here to do?"

Steve swallows past the pain. "Please don't make me say it."

"Humor me."

"You're here to break up with me." Tony inhales sharply, and Steve looks up. "Aren't you?"

Tony's voice has that same small quality it had had before. "Is that what you want?"

Steve blinks. "Of course not. But you… I thought you and Pepper…"

Tony shakes his head. "Me and Pepper nothing, Steve. You were right, she needs me to stop being Iron Man if I'm going to be with her. She needs me to make that choice, and I can't. Maybe in another lifetime I could have done that for her, but—"

"You did," Steve whispers before he can think better of it. "The first time I lived through this, you stayed with her. She was everything to you. And you were everything to her."

Tony smiles at that, small and uncertain. "Maybe that was true then, but this time around? No. No, Steve. I don't want to be with her."

Steve stares at Tony, trying to make sense of the words.

Tony's face goes soft and fond. "I don't want any of that, Steve. Not now. Not anymore, if I ever did. This time around, I just want you. The man that has never asked me to be anything but myself, never wanted me to be anything but me, never wished that I would put away the suits or stop fighting the good fight. You're the only person that's ever seen me with all my faults and weaknesses and wanted me anyway, without asking me to change. You've been here for me, stood at my side." There are tears beading on Tony's lower eyelashes as he reaches up to cup Steve's face in his hands again. "You're the one I want, Steve."

Steve leans in against Tony's hands. "Oh."

"What, you really thought that I would have come up here and slept in our bed if I was going to break up with you?"

Steve looks up at Tony, feeling all of a sudden very sheepish. "I mean. I wasn't… I didn't know what to think. I was so sure you didn't…."

"Want this?" Steve looks away at the knowing tone in Tony's voice. Tony reaches out to touch his chin and turns him back to face him. "I do, Steve. So much more than you can possibly know."

Steve leans forward, resting his forehead against Tony's. "Okay. If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

Steve nods and pulls back. "Then what was going on earlier? With the shaking?"

Tony seems to shrink in on himself. "It's nothing."

"Tony—"

Tony shakes his head and curls up in Steve's lap again. "Please, Steve. Can it wait?"

Steve frowns. "Are you hurt?"

"Physically?"

"Yes."

"No, I'm not hurt physically."

"But you are hurting."

"Yes."

"And you don't want to tell me why?"

Tony shakes his head. "Not yet. Just give me a little time, Steve. Please. I'll tell you, I promise, just… not yet."

Steve sighs, pulling Tony in closer against him. "Okay. But I need you to know that I'll be here when you're ready. Whatever it takes, Tony. I'll be here. I swear."

Tony presses closer against Steve. "I know, Steve. I know."

* * *

It takes a good three days before Tony finally agrees to tell Steve what had been going on.

"It just… it scared the hell out of me," he whispers. The room is dark around them, lit only by the light of the arc reactor in Tony's chest. Steve had bitten his tongue every time he thought to ask Tony about why he hadn't used Extremis to take it out. It wasn't his place to ask. "Almost losing her. Almost losing Happy. It scared the hell out of me."

"That's okay, Tony. It should scare you. I don't ever want you to get to a place where losing the people you love doesn't scare you."

Tony shakes his head, pushing in closer against Steve. "I can't protect them, Steve. I can't do a damn thing if the world decides it wants to take them for its own. I just have to sit there and know it's my fault. That I didn't do enough to protect them. That I brought them into the line of fire in the first place. I can't do that to them, Steve. I can't have that hanging over my head."

"Do you really think they would have it any other way?"

Tony goes quiet at that. He presses his face harder against Steve's chest. Steve runs his fingers through Tony's hair, reveling in the constant, close reminder that Tony really is alive in his arms, the feel of Tony's breath on his skin.

"They love you, Tony. Just like you love them. They want you to be safe the same way you want them to be safe. And I'd be willing to bet that they know, just like I do, that the Iron Man armor is what gives you life. Joy. It keeps you alive in a way that nothing else ever could. You can't give it up, no more than I could give up the shield or Thor could give up his hammer. This thing, being a hero… it's a part of us. Something no one can take away."

Tony nods slowly. Steve cups the back of his head, pressing a kiss to his temple.

"You know that as well as I do, Tony, and so do they. If they love you, which we both know they do, they just want to see you healthy and happy. And if that means the suit, well, there’s no denying that it means a hell of a lot to you. So they'll learn. They'll learn to love you in this new normal that you live in, and they'll learn to love everything that comes with it. They love you, Tony, and they always will."

Steve feels Tony smile against his throat. "Is that your future knowledge talking?"

"A little," Steve concedes. "But it's also me knowing them and knowing you. I know that you're someone that can't be denied once you set your mind to something. That you're someone that will take on the world single-handedly. Someone that can tear it to shreds to remake it in the best image it can be. You're a hell of a man, Tony, and I'm just lucky to have gotten to know you."

Tony stays quiet for a long moment, pressing in closer against Steve. "Promise?"

Steve kisses his temple again. "I promise."


	17. Chapter 17

In all the time that follows, Steve doesn't press any more than that. Through the discovery that Bucky is alive and all the fallout from that, Steve never presses for more. He leans into Tony, welcomes Cap through the halls of the Tower when he and Sam come through, beaten and bruised in their search for Bucky. He keeps to his corner, though, unwilling to force himself into Cap's presence. He lets them make their own future, and he keeps to the edges of Cap's awareness, unwilling to guide him too far in any direction.

Three days before that fateful mission that will land them the scepter in their possession, Steve goes into Tony's deepest databanks and asks JARVIS for more than he's ever asked of him.

"You want me to do what, exactly, Captain?"

"I need to make a copy of all your files. Your most recent backup. And I need you to encrypt it so that there's no way to access it except by a hard coded connection."

"Why, exactly, do you want that?"

Steve looks up, even though he knows that JARVIS isn't in the ceiling. No matter how many times Tony tries to break him of the habit, Steve can't help looking toward the sound of the AI that has been Tony's guardian angel in his stead over so many years. "I know that the whole time travel thing hasn't totally made it through your systems. Tony won't tell me what the issue is, but he's made it clear that there's something in your systems that prevents that from fully internalizing into you. I get that. I do. But can you trust me, here and now, that I know what's coming? Can you trust that I know that Tony's going to want this backup?"

JARVIS is silent for long enough that Steve thinks he might refuse. Before he can start to leave, though, JARVIS speaks. "You have all of Sir's access. He has given your codes access to everything that he has in here. My files, DUM-E's files, anything and everything that you want is at your disposal."

Steve's throat goes tight at the realization. He also knows that won't be enough. "JARVIS—"

"What he has not given you is his knowledge. Which means that he did not expect you to look any closer than you already have. If you were to want access to anything more, you would need to go through me. That means he does not want you to have that access."

Steve swallows past the tightness in his throat. "Or does it mean that he trusts you to make the right call?"

The silence hangs in the air, weighted and heavy. Steve holds his breath, waiting for judgment in a way he hasn't in years. There's a soft click from somewhere to Steve's left. "If you would proceed to the northernmost storage containers."

Steve moves slowly, unwilling to get his hopes up too high. There's a single drawer extended from what looks like little more than an electronically managed filing cabinet. Steve steps up, looking down into the drawer to find what looks like a whole set of flash drives. Steve's first instinct is that there's no way JARVIS' files can be contained on a single flash drive, not even one from 2023.

Then he remembers exactly whose lab he's in.

Steve closes his eyes and exhales. He reaches in to pull out a single drive before turning to look at the ceiling again. "Thank you, JARVIS."

"Certainly, Captain. Now, if you will proceed to the central databank."

Steve forces down a smile. This is going to work. This is really going to work.

* * *

Steve insists on staying in the lab with Tony and Bruce as they work with the scepter. There's something altogether too beautiful about Tony when he's creating, when he has the whole world at his fingertips. Steve lets himself be mesmerized and, as he watches, tries not to be too taken with the ways in which he could change the outcome. He could do so much, could affect so many little things and change the way the whole series of events plays out. But he's tried that before, countless times, and every time he does, Tony still dies, and always too soon. So Steve waits and watches, and when the time comes to head out to Sokovia to save what little is left, Steve kisses Tony's lips, wishes him well, and sends him on his way.

When Tony returns, red-faced and raging at him, Steve lets him. He sits and takes his licks, knowing that this was the second worst betrayal that he could have enacted on Tony. The worst is when he turns to Steve early in one of the first few tirades Tony lets himself go on, eyes wide and wild and asks, "How much did you know?"

"All of it."

"Pietro?"

Steve can only nod.

Tony had grabbed a gauntlet, hauled it on, and punched Steve square in the jaw. Steve had taken the blow, but it hadn't hurt nearly as much as Tony walking away.

Steve tries to be patient. He doesn't want to throw JARVIS in Tony's face and let Tony think that it's a ploy to have all be forgiven. But when it's going on week three of sleeping alone, Steve's had enough. He marches up to the penthouse he's been locked out of for almost twenty days and leans against the wall beside it. It doesn't matter that it's two in the morning. If Tony isn't coming up from the lab, he'll be coming out of the bedroom in a couple hours regardless.

It takes less than three hours for Tony to come out of the penthouse, bleary-eyed and awkward, stumbling as he goes. Steve allows himself a moment to admire Tony in his sleep-rumpled state before he reaches out to grab him by the wrist. Tony startles, struggling in Steve's hold until he sees who it is. He stills at that, coming awake all at once as he glares at Steve.

"What do you want." His voice is flat and unforgiving and it takes all of Steve's willpower not to flinch away from the sound.

"I just want to talk."

"You had time to talk. You've lost that."

"I just want you to hear me out. To try to understand why I did what I did. Why I made that choice." Steve swallows. "Why I'd make it again."

Tony glares at him. "You'd give up a child again? A _boy_? He deserved better than that, Steve."

"He didn't get better in my universe."

"That doesn't mean he deserved it in this one."

"That wasn’t a price I was willing to pay."

That stops Tony short. He stands up a little straighter, frowning up at Steve. "You've come back to this point in time before."

Steve would be surprised at the intuitive leap if he hadn't had years— _decades_ to get used to Tony understanding him down to his core. "Yes."

Tony stares up at Steve. "There's something you came back here to change. To this point in time." Steve nods miserably. "And you failed."

"Tony—"

"What was it, Steve? What did you come back here to stop? You've spent years dodging me; this really isn't the time to try to keep up the façade." Tony takes a single step closer to Steve, his eyes flitting between both of Steve's. "What did you come back here to stop?"

"I didn't come back here to stop anything." The words spill over his lips before he can think better of them. "I came back to save your life."

Tony's breath catches. His eyes are wide, like he knows there's a story there, but he doesn't ask. He waits for Steve to answer.

"You didn't die here the first time around. But when I mess with this too much, yes. Yes, I've lost you here. I can't— I can't lose you here again, Tony. I can't. Not with what you are to me now. Not with what we've built together. I would give up anything to keep you safe and happy. You have to believe me."

Tony stares up at him, eyes wide and desperate. There's something almost desolate in that expression, tugging at Steve's chest in a way that has him wanting to do whatever it takes to make Tony smile again.

"Please, Tony. You have to believe me."

"I do," Tony whispers. "I do, Steve. More than I probably should, but I do, I do, I do."

Steve wets his lips. "I couldn't save Pietro, but… I hope this might help mitigate that failure."

Steve holds out the flash drive, his fingers trembling almost imperceptibly. Tony frowns at it as though it is a mystery for him to unravel. Then his eyes go wide with understanding. He looks up at Steve, breathless in a way that Steve doesn't think he's ever seen him. "Steve?"

"It's an old backup, a little less than a week before the attack, but. Well." Steve holds it out with slightly more intent. "I had to try."

Tony throws himself into Steve's arms, wrapping his own arms tight around Steve's neck, burying his face in Steve's shoulder. Steve wraps his arms instinctively around Tony's waist, holding him close. He's not quite sure if this is a good thing, but he hopes, at least, that Tony might forgive him.

Tony pulls back and cups his hands over Steve's cheeks, his eyes flitting back and forth between them again. "Marry me."

Steve blinks. Tony's smiling face doesn't shift or disappear. "What?"

Tony's face softens, like he knows how hard Steve's brain is working to try to understand what's just happened. "Marry me."

Steve shakes his head. "Five minutes ago you wanted nothing to do with me. Where's this coming from?"

"Haven't you heard? The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference. I never really hated you, Steve, I just… needed something to hang the blame on that wasn't myself. I needed to believe that there was someone who could have prevented this but didn't. It's not rational, but sometimes it's the only way I know how to cope." He goes up on tiptoe, pressing his lips to Steve's in a kiss that Steve returns. "So. Marry me?"

"There are things I'll need to tell you first. I can't marry you without you knowing them."

"None of them will change my mind."

"Even knowing I've hid them from you for three years?"

Tony hesitates, then doubles down. "Even then."

Steve sighs, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Tony's. "Alright. Give me some time to figure out what all I need to tell you. Then maybe— _maybe_ we can talk about this."

Tony grins. "So that's a yes."

"You might change your mind."

"But you're not going to."

Steve swallows. Tony's got him there. "No," he finally concedes. "No, I'm not."

* * *

Steve starts, as he perhaps always should have, with the truth about Bucky. Tony is appropriately stricken by the news that Steve's best friend had killed his parents, but this Tony comes around to it in a way that Steve doesn't know if his Tony ever would have. He nods at all the right places, and only fumes for about three days. Then he comes back to Steve with all the conviction that Steve has always known him to show when it comes down to the people and the things he cares about.

"Was that the worst of it?"

Steve tells him about the years of isolation, of hiding from the law. Tells him about a battle that nearly killed them all. Tells him about the creation of time travel to save the day. How Tony had walked away from his dream life to save the world.

"But that's not the worst of it," Tony says. Steve frowns. "None of that explains why you came back in time. None of that is bad enough for you to need time travel. So what was it, Steve? Why did you come back?"

Steve forces himself to go on meeting Tony's eyes. "It cost us more than I could stomach."

Tony searches Steve's eyes, trying to parse exactly what Steve means. When he realizes, his eyes go wide and his jaw slack. " _Oh_."

"Yeah. Oh."

Tony blinks, then looks away, as though trying to find the words to respond.

Steve smiles at him in turn, leaning in and kissing his forehead. He runs his fingers through Tony's hair, over the top of his head, along the line of his neck. "I couldn't lose you, Tony, I couldn't."

"Why not?"

Steve smiles and shakes his head. "When I lost Bucky the first time—"

"The first time?"

Steve raises an eyebrow at Tony, who falls silent, understanding. "When I lost Bucky the first time, I had absolutely no qualms about flying a plane straight into the Arctic. I was willing to give up everything, up to and including the woman I loved at the time because living without him felt like it wasn't ever going to be enough."

"I mean, you also had a plane full of bombs heading for the Eastern seaboard. I'm not sure that really applied here. You won, didn't you?"

Steve stares into Tony's eyes, trying to find the words to reply. "It didn't feel much like a victory to me."

"Heroes die, Steve. It's part of the path."

Steve forces himself to smile. "You said the same thing back then too. Something similar, at least."

Tony nods. "So that means I went in with my eyes open. I knew what it might cost. I paid that price willingly, just like I would now."

"It wasn't your price to pay, Tony. You weren't the one that was left behind."

"Neither were you when you went down in the Valkyrie."

"Because I didn't understand then. Even after Erskine, I was still too arrogant and hot-headed to understand. You, though. You made me understand. You were the one thing I couldn't live without. And I had the power in my hands to save you, to change everything and make this right again. I thought—" Steve cuts himself off. "I thought I could do this. I thought I could save you."

Tony doesn't answer for a moment. Steve can feel him searching his face, as though looking for the words to say to him. In the end, Tony just leans forward and kisses the corner of Steve's mouth. "You already have."

Steve closes his eyes, leaning into Tony's touch. "You know that isn't what I meant."

Tony smiles against Steve's lips. "Then make it worth it, man out of time. Find a way to make this whole goddamned mess you put yourself into worth it." He pulls back, and the look on his face is so soft that Steve thinks he might melt. "Marry me."

The words startle a laugh out of Steve. "What, even after all that?"

"Especially after all that. You have given so much, Steve. Done so much to keep the world safe. To make it a place that you want to live in. You deserve to have at least one lifetime where you get to be happy." Tony pauses at that, a flicker of doubt flashing over his features. "At least, if I do make you happy."

Steve leans in, kissing Tony soundly. "You do, Tony. So much more than I can say."

"Then take a chance on me, Steve. Maybe this is the lifetime where we get to have each other."

Steve leans forward, closing his eyes as he rests his forehead against Tony's shoulder. "You're sure?"

Tony inhales sharply. "I'm sure."

Steve turns his head and kisses the base of Tony's neck. "Okay." Tony's breath hitches, and Steve lets himself smile against him. "Okay, Tony. We'll do this your way."

"That didn't sound like a yes."

Steve pulls back, meeting Tony's eyes with all the seriousness and weight this moment should carry. "Yes, Tony. Yes, I'll marry you."

Tony's face breaks into a grin that makes Steve's knees go weak. This isn't the way he'd thought this lifetime would go, but if it's what he's been given, he won't complain. He has Tony in his arms for now, at least, and that has to count for something.

* * *

They don't have a big ceremony. Steve insists on it. He's spent years being as unobtrusive as he can, avoiding media scrutiny and the intense potential for misuse the time-traveling technology could have fallen prey to. It's a small affair at the top of Avengers Tower. Pepper and Rhodey and Happy are there of course, and the Avengers all come too. Cap brings Sam and Steve watches with a strange sort of knowing in his stomach. He can't help but wonder if him being here might have led them to one another, or if it was a possibility the first time around too.

Steve knows far too much about missed opportunities. If this is what Cap wants, he can hardly begrudge him the chance.

For all that Steve thinks this should be awkward, everyone assembled seems to understand that this is the reality that they live in. The reality that Steve has created for them. He thinks he should feel more guilty than he does, but there's something about having made this universe _his_ that he's never tried before, and he's willing to hang onto that for now. Part of him wonders if it might have been better for him to let Cap find his place at Tony's side. If that would have mended the bridges he can see fracturing in the space between them. But for once in his life, Steve can't find it in himself to overthink what the multiverse has given him. If he gets one shot at a life with Tony, then he can't find it in himself to be mad.

Cap moves out to the compound with the next wave of Avengers, and Steve lets himself rest in the Tower with Tony. For a few brief months, he thinks that might have been enough. That maybe this time around, things will work out okay. Maybe. Just maybe.

He must have forgotten just how bloody the Accords got the first time around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, i did end this update there. *insert evil smirk* sorry not sorry


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cut the last chapter at a place that made sense narratively, but not in terms of word count, so y'all get two chapters again this week. Also as an apology for not posting on Friday; I got my first dose of COVID vaccine and it threw me for a loop this weekend. Thanks as always for your patience with me!!

"I'm going after him."

Steve feels his chest go tight. He's already halfway to the elevator to get into the suit Tony had designed specifically for him. "Just hold on, Tony, please. Please, just wait until I get there."

"No time, Steve." The absence of a pet name slides like a bullet between Steve's ribs. "Gotta get to them as soon as I can."

"Tony, you don't understand. You don't know how bad this could go."

A heavy silence resonates down the line, carrying the weight of all the secrets Steve has insisted on keeping. The secrets Tony has accepted as part and parcel of this life they're living. "Tell me."

Steve doesn't stop moving toward the workshop. "There's a man there. Zemo. He has—" Steve tries not to let the words catch against his ribs. "He has a video."

"Of?"

"Of Bucky killing your parents."

There's silence down the line before Tony lets loose with a single, vehement " _Fuck_."

"Please, Tony. Let me go instead."

"I'm too close to them already, Steve. They can't afford to lose out on my help."

Steve fumbles his passcode to Tony's lab. "Tony—"

"Come if you need to, Steve, but I'm going in."

"Tony, honey, please—"

Tony cuts the connection.

Steve swears the whole way through the startup sequence for the armor, and insists on JARVIS giving him the coordinates that Tony's aiming for. "Program them in, J," he says as he suits up. "And push the suit as hard as you can while still leaving enough power for a return trip."

"Certainly, Captain."

It's a long flight to Siberia, but Steve grits his teeth through most of it, praying that he'll find what he wants on the other side. All through it, he can't do better than to imagine Tony, beaten and bruised, or worse, _dead_ when he lands. Instead he finds Tony in fighting form with Zemo bound and unconscious at his feet. Steve stumbles a little coming out of the long flight. Tony pops the faceplate up and gives him a wry look.

"Did he choke my mom to death in your timeline too?"

Steve swallows. "I didn't think you needed to hear how graphic it was."

Tony huffs and looks away. "Might have saved Cap and his merry band of idiots a little grief."

"Tony—"

"Save it til we get home, Cap." Steve flinches. This Tony hasn't called him Cap in years. "I've got the plane on the way so we can bring Zemo in for justice. Then we can talk."

Steve forces himself to ask the question he isn't sure he deserves to hear the answer to. "And the other Cap?"

"On his way into hiding as we speak."

Steve nods. "Okay. That… that's good."

Tony laughs, a harsh, barking sound in answer. "If you say so."

Steve closes his eyes. "Tony, I'm—"

"No you're not. Don't say it if you don't understand what it is that you're sorry for. Don't you dare."

Steve swallows and nods. He knows Tony doesn't mean anything by it but to protect his own fragile heart. Steve would bleed a thousand times over for Tony; a little bit of heartache hardly seems an unfair request in light of what Steve's done to him.

Waiting for the plane to make its way to them might be the longest span of silence Steve has ever had with any Tony ever. It's certainly the longest span he's had with this Tony. It's followed by days of quiet, of unspoken distance as Tony presumably tries to make his peace with what Steve has done.

So when Tony comes to him a week later, looks him dead in the eye and says "I want a divorce," Steve is almost willing to give into him.

Almost.

Instead he draws himself up a little taller and says "We're not even going to talk about this?"

Tony stares at him, hard-eyed and unyielding for a long moment. Then his face breaks into a tiny smile. "Thank you."

Steve blinks. "What?"

Tony shakes his head, looking rueful and grateful all at once. "Cap, he… he didn't fight at all when I told him to leave. We took down Zemo together, did what we needed to do as heroes, and then I asked him if he'd tell me what the hell he'd been thinking by keeping this a secret. He wasn't happy about that, asked why I'd been so quick to side with the government on the Accords. He asked, but he didn't really want to know. He didn't listen to a word I said. And when I told him he could listen or leave, he just… he just left.

"But you… you want to fight for this. For me. That's all I needed to know."

Steve's breath catches. "Tony—"

Tony shakes his head. "You don't have to say anything, Steve. I know."

Steve leans in to kiss the words from his lips. "I do, though. I need you to understand. I've tried this so many different ways, Tony. So damn many. Every single one ends up with you dead or— or worse. I don't know how to do this without hurting you. Without risking every goddamn thing that you are. Every goddamn thing that you mean to me. I need you to know that. I've tried, Tony. I've tried so— so many times—"

Tony's arms come around Steve's shoulders, pulling Steve to him before he even realizes that he's shaking. "I know, darling. I know how much you've done. How hard you've tried. And while we may not agree on whether or not that was the right thing to do, you can be damn sure that I know you think it was the right thing to do. If I love you, I can hardly fault you for following your moral compass, can I?"

Steve swallows a gasp, leaning in closer against Tony. "Yeah?"

"Hmm?"

"You still…." Steve can't finish the sentence.

It doesn't matter. Tony understands. He pulls back, cupping Steve's face in his hands. "Yes, husband." The name feels like a lifeline, a teasing allusion to what they are to each other. What they've been for months. "I still love you."

Steve chokes on a sob, leaning forward and resting his forehead against Tony's shoulder. "Promise?"

Steve can hear the laugh in Tony's voice. "I promise."

Steve nods. "Okay, then. That's enough. That's all I need."

Tony holds him a little tighter against himself. "That's all I need too, Steve."

"Good. Then that will just have to be enough for both of us."

* * *

The intervening months are intermittently thick with tension. Steve knows there's still a lot for them to work through, for them to decide and discern about each other. This isn't the way he'd wanted things to go for them, but it's what he has, and that has to count for more than anything else.

So when Tony isn't in the workshop one morning when Steve gets back from his run, he knows all at once that something is very, very wrong. He doesn't want to check the calendar, but then, he doesn't think he needs to.

He's halfway to the Sanctum when the ships come. He suddenly feels bereft, lost without his shield. He's spent years content with being a kept man, keeping in shape more as a way to keep occupied than anything else, but he can see now that this was so much closer than he'd ever let himself realize.

He calls Tony three times as he rushes through the chaos, trying to be helpful and fight down the dread in the same moment. It takes a fourth call before he gets through, and by then one of the ships has taken off into the sky, no doubt with Tony and Peter aboard. "Tony—"

"Listen, before you get mad—"

"You're on that ship, aren't you?"

There's a thick moment of silence before Tony answers with a subdued "Yes."

Steve slows to a stop. "I'm too far from the suits to follow you."

"Wouldn't get you this high anyway."

Steve chokes on a laugh. "What, you didn't foresee another trip to space anytime soon?"

"I did. I just very pointedly didn't put that technology in any of your suits."

Steve feels the tears starting at the corners of his eyes. Hears the way they choke his voice. "Bastard."

"Sorry, not sorry. Listen, this line is going to cut out in a minute, but I need you— I need you to know—"

Steve nods, even knowing Tony can't see him. "I love you too."

Tony laughs. It sounds broken and choked-off and Steve can't help but close his eyes and lean into the familiar closeness of that sound. "Okay. Okay, that's… that's good."

"I'm coming after you, Tony. Just as soon as I can."

"Don't be ridiculous, Steve, we both know—"

"What we both know is bullshit, Tony. Don't ask me to leave you behind. Don't you fucking dare."

Tony stays quiet for a long moment. Then, "Okay, Steve. Come find me. Promise?"

"Yeah, babe," he says, already halfway to dialing Fury. "Yeah, I promise."

* * *

When Thanos comes and goes and Steve can't convince Thor to go for the head, he goes straight to Rocket.

"You have to get me a ship that can take us to Eden."

Rocket wrinkles his nose. "Which is where, exactly?"

Steve shakes his head. "Can't tell you for sure, but if you get me a star map I'll be able to find it. You showed me once."

Rocket frowns, glancing over at Thor and Steve's counterpart. "He speaks true," Thor says. "The man is not of this universe."

Rocket raises an interested eyebrow at that. "Is that right?"

"Later. You can ask me whatever you want later, Rocket. Just, please. Please. Help me find him."

Steve doesn't need to tell them who he's looking for.

For better or for worse, though, thanks to Fury getting the signal off before he got dusted, Carol shows up a week early and gets Tony back to them a full three days before Rocket finishes the ship that's supposed to take them to Eden. He salvages the last of what he needs from the Benatar.

They're ready to leave just hours before the pulse that found them the Stones in Steve's initial timeline. They're all running on fumes, and Steve thinks that Tony would have had the foresight to know that Steve would put his foot down if Tony even tried to get aboard the ship with them.

Apparently Steve underestimated how much Peter meant to this Tony.

"I'm coming with you."

Steve closes his eyes at the sight of Tony in the goddamned armor. Armor that he'd once only been able to admire. "Tony—"

"Don't you take that tone with me, mister. I'm coming."

"You're half-starved and dead on your feet. Don't ask me to take you with us."

"Steve—"

"Let him fight."

Steve glares at his counterpart. "You stay the fuck out of this."

Cap stands up a little taller. "We need all hands on deck. You really want to turn down someone that wants to fight?"

"You have no idea what you're asking of me," Steve says with a snarl.

Cap doesn't back down. "You said it yourself, we're running out of time. We're on the clock, and if we're going to stop Thanos, we need to leave now. You can either spend the time arguing with him or you can let him get on the ship and help us."

Steve's heart is hammering against his ribcage, but he can't fault Cap for his reasoning. He turns to Tony. "Don't do anything stupid."

Tony grins at him, but it's shaky. "How can you ask me that? Reckless is my middle name."

Steve closes his eyes, leaning into the hope that maybe this time around Tony has enough to live for and won't end up making a sacrifice that he can't take back. "Okay. Okay, let's do this."

In hindsight, Steve wonders why he ever thought he might be more of a reason than Morgan, in his first timeline.

* * *

"How did you even find the time to plan a gauntlet with the armor?"

Tony smiles at him through burnt and bleeding skin. Steve knows he's too far gone to give him any sort of answer, but he wants to know. God, he wants to know so badly.

"Please." Steve pitches forward, one hand over the arc reactor, his forehead on Tony's shoulder. "Please."

Tony reaches up, threading the fingers of his good hand through Steve's over the arc reactor. It's a plea and a promise all in one.

Steve closes his eyes on the pain and loss and reaches for the words that Pepper had so lovingly bestowed upon Tony lifetimes ago. He forces himself to pull back, plaster on a smile, and meet Tony's eyes. "You can rest now, Tony. We're going to be okay. You can rest."

Tony shakes his head slightly, as though he can see through Steve's lie. "Live," he whispers. Steve nearly loses all composure at that. "Live."

Steve clenches his eyes shut. "Tony—"

"Please."

"Okay." Steve draws a shuddering breath, trying to make the word sound more convincing the second time around. "Okay."

Tony tries for another smile. Steve can feel the ache down to his bones. Tony squeezes Steve's hand with what little strength is left, and then the hand is falling away.

"Fuck."

Steve gives himself over to the tears, then. There's nothing left here, but he owes it to this Tony to see him through to the end.

* * *

The memorial is a quiet affair. Steve doesn't quite have the strength to take the token that had so long represented Pepper's relationship with Tony and repurpose it. What he does do is take the remains of Tony's gauntlet and a single bolt from DUM-E's frame to be buried alongside him. It's not the same, not by a long shot, but it's all Steve feels worthy of giving him. Steve has already taken more than he deserves from this Tony, but it hurts all the same. He doesn't speak at the funeral, too broken and lost to risk saying even a word. Pepper and Rhodey both say their pieces, and they both try to convince Steve to do the same, but Steve knows he doesn't deserve to. Not after leading Tony to his death and letting him go. 

He doesn't deserve a damn thing.

Steve waits until the funeral is over before he makes his way over to Natasha. She's the only one that he thinks might be able to understand the gravity of what's happened.

"In another lifetime, we lived without half the universe for five years. We tried to live, at least. These Stones… they're too powerful. They're worth too much to be allowed to stay in one place. I need you to promise me something."

"Anything."

"Scatter them. Go with Carol and scatter them to the ends of the universe. Make sure no one can ever unite them ever again."

Natasha nods, seeming to feel the gravity of this request. "I will."

Steve nods in return. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm glad you're here."

Natasha's breath hitches with understanding. Steve tries not to regret giving her that insight. But there's no time for that. He turns on his heel and lets the rage surge up over his head.

It's time to indulge in the sweet relief of vengeance a few times before he tries again.

* * *

He goes forward to 2023. He goes back and he rages. He lets loose with all the pain that comes from losing a husband and a lover rather than just the man he loves. He'd known, every other time, that Tony was important to him. That he had, as much as anyone in Steve's position could, loved him. He'd loved Tony down to his bones, down to his marrow, loved him just as much when he was being brilliant and unstoppable as when he was being stubborn and petulant. 

He knows now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Tony is the only person he could love this way, this deeply.

And maybe that's nothing more than an artifact of choosing to go back to undo the worst sin that Steve has ever played a part in committing, but Steve doesn't think so. What could have driven him to this point in the first place? What could have made him so sure that Tony needed to be saved, if not for this drive in his chest? This is what he's always felt for Tony, even if he hadn't realized it the first time around. Before, it had been a simmer, a banked coal in his chest. Now, after having had the man in his arms for so long, after having loved him so deeply, it means so much more to have lost him. More than any of the dozens upon dozens of times before. If this is what it is to truly have loved and lost, Steve doesn't know if he has the strength to go through this again.

Once, he lets himself wait past the end of that battle. Lets himself wander into the back of the gathering at Tony's funeral. Lets himself watch Pepper let that facsimile of Tony's heart float away into the lake that had been his home for those last five years. He doesn't have eyes for Pepper, though. All he can see is the one person that Tony left behind that he knows now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, is the reason Tony gave up everything.

Morgan catches his eye at some point during the wake afterwards. She seems to be able to tell that Steve is someone different, someone that she might want to talk to. She slips her hand from her mother's grasp and crosses the patio to stand in front of Steve. It takes all Steve's willpower to crouch down in front of her rather than lift her into his arms.

"Hey there, Morgan."

She stares back at him with Tony's eyes, bright and knowing and aching in Steve's chest. "You're not Uncle Steve."

Steve's throat goes tight. "No, baby girl. I'm not."

"But you look like him."

Steve nods.

"You're not a clone, are you?"

The laugh that spills from Steve's chest is harsh, burning its way through his lungs. "No, Morgan. No, I'm not a clone."

"Then what are you?"

"You know how your daddy went away for awhile? Did your mom tell you where he went?"

"He went to save everybody. My dad's a superhero. Are you a superhero too?"

Steve's smile tugs at his lips, hurting in a way he'd forgotten a smile could. "I used to be."

Morgan nods like that makes sense. "Are you going to bring my daddy back?"

Steve blinks. "What?"

"Your face looks like Mommy when she's thinking about Daddy, but she doesn't like being a hero. Not the way Daddy did. But you're a hero. Are you going to bring him back?"

Steve's chest feels too small for his heart. It's hammering against his ribs, trying desperately to get his attention. He almost doesn't dare pay it any mind. But he knows that's what he needs to do, knows he needs to listen to it and lean into the strength of the beat in his chest. "Is that what you want?"

Morgan nods, looking down at her hands as though too shy to admit it aloud.

Steve nods in return, resisting the urge to lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead. It isn't his place. "Okay, Morgan. I'll try to bring him home."

Morgan's face lights up. "Really?"

"I can't promise it'll be easy. I can't even promise that I'll succeed. But I'll try, okay?"

Morgan nods. "I know. It's hard to do superhero things. I understand if you can't do it."

Steve nods too, knowing that it's nearly impossible that he'll be able to bring this particular Morgan's father back, but he can certainly try to bring back another Morgan's father. Can certainly try, in some small way, to undo all the harm that his selfishness has done. "Okay. I can do that. But don't wait up for me, okay? Even if I manage it, it's going to take a long time."

"I know. I'll understand if you can't bring him back. Mommy says he's gone, and I know she's right, but you're a superhero, so I think it's okay to hope."

"Just don't hope too hard."

Morgan nods. "Okay."

Steve clenches and unclenches his fists, resisting the urge to reach out to her. He forces himself to his feet, nodding down at Morgan. "Okay."

Then he turns on his heel and makes his way off of the Stark property, ready to dive into the deep yet again. Maybe this time what he really does need to do is put an end to Iron Man.

Truly, this time.


	19. Chapter 19

This time, Steve goes back to 2007. The Reality Stone makes it easy enough to fake his way into the Air Force, and then it's just a matter of a few more gentle nudges on reality to get him assigned to the team that's going to be searching Tony out in too few weeks. He doesn't make friends, he doesn't get to know anyone, he just puts his head down and does his job. He just needs to make it a few weeks, and then he'll be out there in the desert searching for Tony.

He pretends to be as surprised as everyone else when the call comes in. They suit up and head out under Rhodes' direction, and Steve does everything he can to speed up the missions. He goes out on every single rescue attempt and every search party, unwilling to risk them finding Tony without him. He works his ass off so that, when the time comes, he can make his move. He nudges the teams in the right direction, points them toward where they'd found Tony in that last lifetime, and makes sure that they get to him as soon as possible. They get there so early, in fact, that Tony hasn't even had time to build the suit. It's exactly what Steve had hoped for and exactly what he had refused to let himself believe was possible. He doesn't let the relief show on his face, and forces himself to attend to a dying Yinsen instead. They'd thought they'd gotten to the camp without being noticed. If the bullet holes in Yinsen's chest are anything to go by, they hadn't.

Tony is borderline catatonic when Steve makes it to his side, after doing what he could to make Yinsen's death a little less painful. Steve leans in to get Rhodes' attention. "Rhodes. I was with the other one."

Those words are enough to startle Tony into action. He sits up straight and pins Steve with a stare. One look at Steve's face seems to be enough to make it clear what had happened to Yinsen. Tony pitches forward, burying his face in his hands as his shoulders shake. Rhodes glares at Steve and shakes him off. He reaches out to grip Tony by the shoulder, but Tony shakes him off as well.

"Tony," Rhodes says, voice low and careful. "Tony, come on, man."

Steve's seen Tony like this before, unwilling to accept comfort in the worst of his moments. His throat aches with the desire to comfort, to have and to hold the man that had been his husband for half a decade.

But this isn't his Tony, is it? This is a man that could be so much more. Without the armor to weigh him down, Tony could be whatever he wanted to be. He could save the world in other ways, subtler ways, and then, maybe, he could live his life to its inevitable conclusion. To a life with Pepper and Morgan — not the Morgan he'd just made an impossible promise to, but another Morgan, just as brilliant and just as strong.

So Steve sits with Tony, a man that isn't exactly who Steve had loved but is just as wonderful in every way. He waits and he watches and makes sure that Tony wants for nothing as they get him into the infirmary and back to the US. When he sees Tony march down the ramp to meet Pepper when they get back stateside, Steve knows he's done everything he needs to do here. Now he just needs to wait and watch and make sure.

He does what little good he can in the meantime, saving lives and impeding Hydra at every turn. He doesn't need to be at Tony's side to keep him safe, to know that the people around him are keeping him safe. He'll be fine, and in the meantime, Steve can try to take down the evils that have worked behind the scenes of both their lives for so damn long. He may not be able to do anything about Thanos right now, but he can damn well do the things that he couldn't do the first time around.

He fights and he fights and he fights and he forgets about the other dangers that Tony has faced until it's too late.

* * *

"Palladium poisoning?"

Rhodes nods. If he's confused by Steve coming to ask after Tony, he doesn't show it. "From the arc reactor."

"And you're going with that as the public story?"

"Why wouldn't we?"

Steve closes his eyes, trying not to let the pain and fear and worry of the last several decades show on his face. _Because he wasn't supposed to die._ "Why would a genius like Stark let himself die of something like palladium poisoning?"

Rhodey's eyebrows draw together in a frown. "You're saying that you know how to reverse palladium poisoning?"

Steve grits his teeth on the truth that Tony knew, even if he himself didn't. "He was brilliant. He should have figured it out.

"Well, he didn't."

Steve knows he should stop, should back away from this, but he can't stop himself once he's gotten started. "Rhodey—"

"He didn't figure it out, Stevens. Okay? And he didn't let anyone know until it was irreversible. There's nothing any of us could have done, no matter how much brain power we could have offered him.

"He should have figured it out." Steve shakes his head. "He should have told us. He was an idiot."

"He was a genius."

"I'm not denying that. But he was also an idiot."

"You didn't know him like I did, Stevens. If he couldn't figure it out, none of us could have." He reaches out and clasps Steve by the elbow. "I'm sorry."

Steve almost asks to see him. Almost asks if he can see Tony and start to understand just a little bit better what exactly had been done to try to save him. If he could have done anything. He'd figured, after the first time around, that Tony had enough of a drive to live that something like palladium poisoning wouldn't have stopped him. That he'd have found a way to fight and figure his way past all the pain and just live. Live the way Steve has wanted him to for ages. But he knows better than to ask to see him as someone that, in this lifetime, meant nothing to Tony, for all that Tony meant everything to him.

He does go to the public funeral, though. He makes himself go and pay his respects and pretend, just for once, that this is the man that he'd loved. That he loves.

He reads all the articles he can get his hands on about him after his death, wanting to understand what went wrong this time before he goes to try to fix it again. Pepper is quoted over and over again, citing him as reserved, removed, and listless. That she and Rhodes and Obadiah Stane had done what they could to coax him out of isolation in the wake of his kidnapping, but there had been very little that drew him out of his workshop. Sleep, occasionally. Food, slightly more often. But human company did very little to draw him away from his projects. His countless, unending attempts to save the world that he, in his mind, had left in tatters. Steve can't help but smile at the knowledge that he'd perfected the arc reactor technology, at least as much as he could with palladium at its core. Steve wonders briefly, desperately, if he can remember the molecular makeup of the element that he and Tony had invented in a lab so many years ago. If he could at least leave that behind as part of Tony's legacy—

But he doesn't and he can't and all that's left is to close his eyes, lean into the pain, and try not to lose himself to it. All that's left is to walk away, reach for the Stones, and move onto the next attempt. It hurts like hell, yes, but it's something.

It's something.

* * *

Going back to 2008 again hurts in a way that Steve hadn't thought it would. To have seen a Tony that simply gave up after nearly losing his life stuck in a cave is a hurt too raw and new for Steve to move through. But he forces himself to go out on every single rescue attempt, endearing himself to Rhodes enough that, when the time comes, he can make his move. He's less overt this time, still urging the teams in the right direction, but not so quickly that they might be able to find him too soon. He makes sure that they get to Tony as soon as they can after the creation of the suit. He gives Tony as much time as he can, long enough that he knows Tony will be able to escape on his own in the suit, and then they'll be able to find him when it happens. He's learned his lesson about not letting Tony build the suit. He understands now in a way that he didn't before how much that suit had saved Tony's life.

Quite literally, it would seem.

Steve goes along with Rhodes when they gather Tony from the middle of the Afghan desert, hauling him up to safety. He understands Rhodes' choice to see to Tony privately, but he wants so badly to have that confirmation that Tony's okay. If he lets his newfound friendship with Rhodes ingratiate him with Tony, well, that may have been his plan after all.

It's not that he gets to spend all that much time with Tony. It's that he gets to see the shift in him. The way he's so careful and brilliant and wanting in the way he moves through the world, even ever so slightly dimmed by his time in captivity. He lives his life the best he can, and Steve can almost believe that this time might be the right time.

Then he gets the phone call from Rhodes that there's an unconfirmed attack just a few miles from Tony's house, and all Steve can think is _how?_

He beats Rhodes to the site and is somehow not at all surprised to see Tony's body, broken and bloody on the ground in the remains of what might have been an Iron Man suit if given enough time.

"JARVIS," he snaps, even knowing that the AI may not be able to tell him anything his own eyes can't, "do you have vitals on him?"

"Negative, Captain."

Steve swears and gives into the need to tear the suit away from Tony. He pulls away at first brush, stunned at how cold the metal is under his fingers. "What happened?"

"As near as I can tell the repulsors failed when Sir reached too high an elevation."

"The repulsors failed? How? That's not supposed to happen. He's flown higher than that just fine before."

JARVIS is tellingly quiet. Steve swears again and yanks his shirt off, using it as a meager barrier between his hands and the freezing cold suit. "The alloy Sir used to manufacture the suit was not created to sustain appropriate temperatures at that altitude. With the ice on the suit, there was little that Sir could have done once they failed."

Steve gets the helmet off first, and grants himself a split second to stare into Tony's vacant eyes before he sets in on the chest plate. That's somehow even worse, a mangled, messy amalgamation of skin and bone and metal. Steve swallows down the bile that surges in his throat, trying to focus on the task at hand. There has to be something— something—

Rhodes takes him by the elbow, trying discreetly to pull him away. "Stevens. Come on. Come on, man. He's— he's already gone. He would've died when he hit the ground."

"How would you know that?"

"The size of this crater? The height the witnesses said he fell from? It would have had to be instant."

Steve closes his eyes. "This didn't happen the first time."

Rhodes pulls away at the low hiss. "Stevens?"

 _That's not my name_ , he doesn't say. "Nothing. It's— never mind." He gets to his feet, staring down at Tony with all the heartache and want that he's always carried when it comes to him. "It doesn't matter."

It does, though. It really, truly does. But Steve doesn't dare overstay his welcome, doesn't dare ask after the funeral service or what's going to come after. He's seen Tony die too many times already. To see it like this, again, once again at Tony's own hands… it's too much. It's too damn much. But it's enough to give him an idea. If being saved early wasn't enough. If the suit wasn't enough. Maybe there's a space in between the two that might give Tony enough of a reason to live. That might give him what he needs. It's a hell of a long shot, but Steve won't give up. Not on Tony. Not now. Not after everything he's done and given and been.

He has to keep trying.


	20. Chapter 20

Steve crashes back to 2008 with all the rage and frustration that losing Tony always gives him. He puts his head down and follows orders on the ground, but after every mission, he runs seventeen miles just to use the ache in his muscles to drown out the ache in his heart. Rhodes doesn't say anything, but Steve knows he's caught the lieutenant colonel's eye. Not that it matters. He's going to help them find Tony regardless of what Rhodes does or doesn't think. Impressing the man, though… that's key to the next step of this whole plan.

They find Tony right on schedule. Steve breathes a sigh of relief when they do, knowing that from here on out, it's going to be as easy as planting the idea in Rhodes' head. If Steve can just convince Rhodes to take the suit instead of Tony himself, then maybe — just maybe — they can make it through this intact. It would give Tony something to focus on, a reason to live, while not endangering him the way he had last time around.

So Steve goes on doing whatever he can to catch Rhodes' attention without making it too obvious that he's trying. It seems to work, if the way he starts seeking out Steve's advice is any indication. Steve knows it's nothing more than Rhodes' attempt to feel him out, get an understanding of who he is and what makes him tick, but it means he's on Rhodes' radar, which is exactly what he'd wanted. It's why he's there when Tony comes to propose the suit to Rhodes. He catches Rhodes' eye over Tony's shoulder, cocking an eyebrow at him knowingly. Rhodes' face goes hard and he shakes his head. At that motion, Tony turns to look at him. Steve can tell, even from a distance, that his face has gone positively devious before he turns back to Rhodes. That seems to be enough to change Rhodes' mind if his nod is any indication.

Perfect. Mission accomplished.

* * *

When Steve gets the call from Rhodes that shit is going down downtown and that he needs to go check on Tony _right the fuck now_ , Steve knows this is worse than he'd thought. He remembers the file in the report he'd read on Tony decades ago, back when he'd done this the first time, but he doesn't remember what was in it. Remembers a whole hell of a lot of black ink but beyond that, nothing. He could go back and kill himself for his obliviousness if not for the fact that then, he wouldn't be here to save Tony this time around.

He gets to Tony's house within twenty minutes of the call from Rhodes. When he bursts in, he's fully expecting to find Tony face down on the floor from getting his ass beat.

Instead, he finds Tony sitting on the couch, his hands splayed open at his sides, his eyes wide open and a hole in his shirt… over a damning hole in the middle of his chest.

Steve's across the room like a shot. "Tony!"

Tony turns to look at him, his brow wrinkling in confusion. He doesn't say anything, though, just makes a tiny, questioning noise that could be Pepper's name.

"Rhodes has got her covered, Tony, She'll be fine, I swear, but we need to make sure her boss is in one piece so she has a job to come back to when this is all over."

Tony's face relaxes slightly. He shakes his head.

Steve feels the rage claw its way up his gut, daring him to leave. "Where is it, Tony?"

Tony shakes his head again.

"God _dammit_ , Tony don't bullshit me. You made it through this the first time, you have to have had a way."

He doesn't realize Tony's moving until a sweat-soaked hand comes up to cover Steve's over the missing arc reactor. He makes a few small sounds that Steve can't quite parse, something in Steve's chest wanting so desperately to understand, even as the rest of him is clamoring for revenge. "Who… you…?" Tony finally manages.

Steve swallows down his pride and meets Tony's eyes head-on. "You want the truth?" Tony nods, a minute, almost imperceptible movement of his head. "I'm a time traveler here to try to save your ass from the apparently hundreds of times you could have wound up dead between now and 2023. I've done this more times than I can count and I always, always fail. God forbid I be able to save the one—" Steve cuts himself off, unable or unwilling to give Tony the truth here and now.

Tony squeezes his hand, though it could just be a shift; Steve isn't entirely sure. But there's something trusting in Tony's eyes as he stares up at him. "Next… time…."

Steve shakes his head, unwilling to accept defeat even now. "Tell me how to save you now, Tony. For God's sake, tell me how to save you now." Tony blinks slowly, as though he doesn't have the strength to keep his eyes open. "Stay with me, Tony, come on. Where is it? Where's the spare arc reactor?"

Tony's lips quirk up in a tiny smile as he tightens his grip on Steve's hand again. "Thank you," he manages.

"Tony—"

"Saved me. Didn't… didn't have to die alone."

"Mother _fucker_ , Tony—"

"Worst thing I could think of… back there. Dying alone. Knew I would. But you… you didn't let me. You being here means that… in another lifetime… I meant something to someone. Has to count for something."

It's more words than Steve thinks Tony should really be attempting right now, but he can't convince himself to tell Tony to stop. If talking to him is enough to keep Tony breathing long enough for Steve to find the spare arc reactor, then maybe that's better. He lets himself look around, his eyes flitting furtively around the room, looking for a place that might be hiding the arc reactor. Even as he looks, he dismays of finding it; Tony's never kept the keys to his heart out in the open. It'll be down in the shop, if Pepper saved it this time around at all.

Steve starts to pull away, but the weak tug of Tony's grip on his hand is enough to hold him back. "Don't," Tony whispers. "Please."

"I have to save you, Tony. Please, just… please let me."

"Too late. Shrapnel—" Tony clenches his eyes shut, twisting as much as his weakened state will allow. "In my heart already."

"Jesus fuck, Tony, you're telling me you sat here and let yourself die rather than just tell me where the damn reactor is?"

Tony's lips curl into a tiny smile. "Better that… than risk dying alone."

Steve tightens his own grip on Tony's hand in turn. "Okay," he manages. "Okay. I can… I can do this much for you. If you won't let me save you—" Tony's lips quirk in confirmation "— then I'll stay here with you."

"S'all I want."

Steve forces a smile, looking down at Tony, feeling like he's the one bleeding from shrapnel in his heart. "Okay, Tony. If that's what you want."

Tony nods. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"'Bout us. In the future. What was it like?"

Steve blinks back the tears and tries not to let it hurt too much. He only tells Tony the good parts, the things that made the future beautiful. The power of Tony's Iron Man and the joy of his life with Pepper. He doesn't let himself mourn the what-ifs of their own life together, or the desperate life he'd stolen for himself so recently, but he does tell Tony everything he can to show him that he was loved. He talks until Tony's hand goes cold under his, and then keeps going until his voice is hoarse from the alternating sobs and stories. He gave Tony everything he could, everything he had, and he feels hollowed out in turn, unable to meet the man's eyes even in death.

If he were a stronger man, Steve would have waited to meet Rhodes and Pepper head-on. He'd have done whatever it took to make this right after stealing Tony from them. But he's not. He's worn down and tired and he just… he just wants to see Tony live the life he's meant to. Maybe he's never going to get that, but damn if he won't fight until his last breath to give it to him.

So he sits in Tony's presence, letting his tactician's mind do all the work that he's never given it time to do, in all the rush and bustle from one lifetime to the next. He filters through all the changes, all the variables, everything that he's lived through and seen in his quest to save Tony.

Steve gets slowly to his feet, wondering for the first time exactly how much time has passed since he started this journey. If he should start worrying about his body failing him anytime soon. But this feels more like a soul-ache, the pain of losing Tony rather than the pain of age. The pain of loss could drag him down if he let it, but then, he'd given up long ago if loss was all it took to take him down. He leans into the pain, lets it make him strong, and pulls on the power of the Stones. He may never be enough, but he's at least going to go down fighting.

* * *

Steve's learned the pattern by now. Trying to interfere too much or too early or in the wrong way just gets Tony killed early. Whatever it is that happened in that first trip to 1970 where he lost Tony at twenty-one, too young and too inexperienced, must have torn a rift in the multiverse and sent Steve to whatever this version of hell is. This version of hell where he doesn't even get to see Tony through to the most powerful implementation of Tony's strength over the forces of nature. Where he is instead subjected to bearing witness to Tony's untimely demise a thousand times over in the wrong way.

Well, a dozen times. Steve can't even imagine watching Tony die a thousand times. That would just be too much. He'd kill himself first.

Each time since that damned night in 1991 has left Steve all the more certain that there's something to the way he's been with Tony in three of the lifetimes since. The times Tony has lived to the only death that Steve could even come close to accepting for him have been those lifetimes where Steve leans into the reality of the depth of his feelings for Tony. Where he's accepted the taste of Tony's lips on his, where he's leaned into Tony's hands on his hips, where he's welcomed Tony into his body. There's nothing left in this cycle but for Steve to open himself up to Tony and take whatever it is that the man will give him.

Anything.

Steve's done this enough times now that he's triangulated Tony's location in the desert. There have been enough iterations, and his memory is good enough that he just _knows_.

He doesn't reveal anything right away. For all that he knows, the last thing he wants to do is send the Air Force on a wild goose chase when they have their protocols in place to find their way to Tony. So he bites his tongue and tries not to glare holes in Rhodes' back as his teams fail and fail and fail to find Tony. It drags at Steve's gut, pulling at his lungs, and he doesn't know how to quiet it.

Once, about three weeks in, Steve considers going in to break Tony out on his own. It's tempting. It would be a way to burst into Tony's life in all his red, white, and blue glory and show him that Steve's on his side.

Then again, who's to say that won't just get both of them killed?

No, better to wait until he can point Rhodes in the right direction. That way, he won't draw too much attention to himself. Just enough to get Tony interested. Not enough to get him suspicious.

But then three weeks become four, become five, become six, and Steve can't hold himself back anymore. He just wants Tony back in his arms. He's tried this thrice already, has failed to save Tony each time, and this time… this time he's going to take whatever Tony is willing to give. He just wants to have Tony in his arms again.

So when six weeks become seven, become eight, Steve doesn't think he can really be blamed for dropping off an anonymous tip about Tony's location. If Rhodes has any suspicion about who sent the tip, he shows no outward sign to that effect. Instead he takes the news with all the restrained good grace of a man that thinks he's found his last possible path to salvation.

Steve goes along for the ride, ready for whatever they're about to face. He's seen Tony killed more times than he can count; seeing him in whatever form the Ten Rings have left him in will be nothing to that. At least, he thinks that until they make it to the cave Tony had been kept in. The one Steve's only ever seen in the aftermath of what had happened to Tony, and even then only when staking out the exact location in a precious lifetime. So his first thought is that there should be a lot more human activity here than there is.

Instead, the area around the mouth to the cave is deserted. Steve's throat goes dry. This isn't at all what he'd been expecting. There are signs of life, as though of a hideout hastily abandoned, but no indication that there's anything more than that happening here. Steve's heart sinks, his body realizing what's happened before his mind does. This can't be happening. It can't. God, if only Steve had been _faster_ —

The sight is somehow worse than Steve had imagined. Tony's body is thrown across the ground in a twisted mess, his left forearm resting across the ground and his right arm pinned under his torso. And his face. Steve's seen faces like that before. Victims of drowning tend to have enough in common with one another that Steve's learned the signs. But Tony—

 _Tony_ wasn't supposed to drown. Not again. He wasn't supposed to die here in the dirt like an animal. Tony is a man among gods, a god among men, and for him to have fallen like this before he had a chance to fulfill the reality of his future leaves Steve's chest twisting and aching. He rushes to Tony, skidding across the ground to ease him over onto his back. Tony's eyes are wide open, his face bloated, and for a second Steve thinks he's going to throw up, just like the first time. He reaches up, fingers trembling as he closes Tony's eyes. Rhodes may not always have thought much of Steve, but goodness knows Steve's always thought the world of him and the way he'd always taken care of Tony. He doesn't deserve to see the worst of this.

For a split second, Steve considers getting up and pretending he hadn't touched Tony. He knows better than that, though. Knows better than to let his selfishness pull him astray and absolve him of his guilt.

He thinks too of activating the Stones at his wrist and disappearing into the void of the multiverse. He thinks of hiding — _running_ — because this might not be the worst fate he could have imagined for Tony, but it's damn close. Killed all alone, without a chance to change the world in the way that Steve knows drove him later in life. Dead and gone with no chance to show the world the man that Steve knows he is. He can't run, not from this. Not from the reality that his arrogance has given him. One where Tony is dead and gone and out of reach. At least until the next turn of the Stones.

Those brief moments between racing in and Rhodes finding his way into the cave with the rest of his team stretch into an eternity, pulling the breath and hope from Steve's chest. He knows this is happening, but he can't reconcile it with the reality that he wants for Tony. It's not fair, not in the slightest, for Tony to be condemned to this. Steve can't swallow down the desperation in his chest. This is everything Steve's been fighting to change, and to have it laid bare before him, Tony, dead and gone… it's too much. It's all too much.

He backs out of the cave as quietly as he can, fingering the space between worlds where the Stones rest. He reaches into that space, takes a slow breath, and _pulls_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, that takes us to the end of arc 2 of this journey. and man, has it been a journey!
> 
> just so everyone is aware of where we're at, i have all of arc 3 written, but arcs 4 and 5 are not written. i'm tempted to hold off on starting to post arc 3 until i have something written (or at least a concrete outline) for those two arcs. but i want to do what you all think is best!
> 
> knowing 1) that my beta still needs to look at arc 3, and 2) that arc 3 is a single lifetime that is bittersweet throughout most of it but has an ending similar to this one (par for the course, as i'm sure you know at this point), would you rather i start posting arc 3 and risk a delay between arc 3 and arc 4? or do you want me to keep posting until i run out of pre-written material? let me know [here](https://twitter.com/hollyandvice/status/1361081967639334912?s=21)! thank you as always for joining me on this beautiful, bumpy ride!


End file.
